Always There
by Halifax898
Summary: A young Thorin chances across a young elven girl different from any other of her kin. The two grow up separate from one another and reunite years later to rekindle their friendship. Now as the prophecy to return to the mountain has come to pass, she joins Thorin and a company of others as they journey to retake their home from Smaug the Terrible.
1. Separate Journeys

5

Twelve year old Arinya sat within the small family cottage that she lived in with her father, mother, and older brother. She sat perched upon a wooden chair at the main table in the kitchen. Her legs dangled over the side of her seat, her feet just short of touching the cool floor. She watched her father with an interest as he moved about the kitchen, preparing dinner.

The sound of footsteps coming from just outside their home alerted her to the presence of someone heading towards the front entrance, her keen elven hearing picking up on it. Her father heard it as well and paused in his work to look towards the main door.

A moment later, the door swung open to admit Arandil, Arinya's elder brother. He strode through the door with the grace and elegance possessed by all elves. Arinya's brother shut the door securely behind him as he strode down the hall towards his father and sister, undoing the restraints the held a quiver of arrows to his back. As he entered the kitchen, he gently sat the quiver on a nearby chair and proceeded to take off the ash bow strung across his back and set it next to the quiver.

Arinya's father, Leyandril, frowned slightly. "Arandil, do not place your weapons where we eat," he sighed, turned back to preparing dinner.

Arandil arched and eyebrow as he took a seat next to his younger sister. "It is not on the table."

"Arandil," he warned, turning his head slightly to the side to look at his son out of the corner of his eye.

The boy put up his hands. "Very well." He reached over to the nearby chair, grabbed his bow and quiver, and set them gently upon the ground. "Are you pleased?" he asked with a smile.

"Very," Leyandril said without amusement. He turned his head back to the counter in front of him and continued his work.

Arandil looked around, searching for something. "Where is mother?"

"She went into Dale to sell some of the skins from her latest hunt. She'll be back before dark," their father answered.

Arandil nodded his understanding.

Arinya turned to her elder brother, not masking her eagerness and excitement to inquire about his hunt. "Did you catch anything?"

Her brother turned his head to look at her, a smile playing on his lips. He affectionately brushed away a few strands of unruly brown hair that had escaped her long braid. "Sadly no. One day, hopefully."

"It will happen. You just need to keep practicing," their father encouraged.

"But when?" he asked, turning his bright blue eyes to Leyandril.

"Patience. You will get there eventually." Leyandril turned and smiled at his son. He left his work on their dinner and came to join them at the table, pulling out a chair across from his children and sitting in it.

"I hope so," Arandil said with a touch of doubt.

Leyandril shifted his olive green eyes to his daughter. "What about you, dear one? Have you been practicing?" he asked, keeping his bright smile on his face.

Arinya nodded vigorously. "Of course. I believe I am getting better," she declared hopefully.

Leyandril chuckled. "I'm sure you are. Why don't you show me how far you've come after I am done here?"

Arinya shook her head. She began to trace her finger along the grooves and up and down the grain of the table. "I was actually hoping that I could go into the woods and explore." Her vivid green eyes flicked up to find her father's.

Arandil was the first to answer. He began to laugh. "Again? Are you entirely sure that you will not get lost?" he teased.

"You didn't get lost, so why should I? Besides, I have not gotten myself lost any of the other times I went out," she threw at him in a way that only a little sister could.

"There is always a first time," he smiled, brushing a stray lock of long blond hair behind his ear.

Leyandril folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair as he regarded his daughter thoughtfully. "I'm not sure that would be wise. It will be dark soon and I do not like the thought of you getting lost," he said with a frown.

"I'll be fine. I'll be sure to return before dark," Arinya reassured.

Her father extended his hand up and placed it thoughtfully on his chin. After a moment, he leaned forward, the old wooden chair creaking in protest, and sighed. "Very well. Just be sure to return before nightfall."

Grinning broadly, Arinya instantly jumped to her feet and skipped over to her father and pecked him on the cheek. Hurrying down the hall, the young elf girl grabbed her forest green cloak off the rack and quickly slung it over her shoulders. Swiftly, she pulled open the door and was greeted by a warm rush of air tinged with the cool of the coming of night. She threw a smile over her shoulder at her father and brother. "I'll be back later," she called.

"Be careful," Leyandril called back. "And be sure to be back before sundown."

With that, the door closed behind her as Arinya slipped out into the forest beyond.

A young Thorin anxiously paced up and down a long hallway in front of a massive closed wooden door. He tried to strain his ears to hear what was happening beyond the door, but to no avail. He continued walking, clasping his hands behind his back and playing with the large ring on his finger.

Suddenly, just as he was passing the large door for what had to be nearly the fortieth time, the door swung open. From out of the open door strode his father, Thrain. Thorin's father surveyed the hall for a moment before his hard eyes locked on his son's. He quickly walked over to Thorin, a small smile on his face.

When he reached his son, he clapped his hands on his shoulders and looked him squarely in the eye. "Your grandfather has approved your request," he said slowly. Thorin was about to celebrate when his father cut him off with a wave of his hand. "But, you must bring an armed escort. Two able soldiers at the bare minimum."

The young dwarf prince's jaw set in defiance. "That defeats the purpose, doesn't it?" he asked smartly.

"Nevertheless, you will take an escort with you. You can set out anytime you want. Just be sure to return before nightfall," Thrain said. Clearly with nothing more to say, Thrain turned on his heel and began to head down the hall. Within seconds, he rounded a corner and disappeared from sight.

Thorin listened to the sound of his father's retreating footsteps until they passed beyond the range of his hearing and the hallway was enveloped in silence once more. Thorin gritted his teeth in frustration before he turned and headed down the hall, in the opposite direction of his father, to head to the barracks to find two soldiers to accompany him to Dale.

Thorin walked just in front of two heavily armed dwarven soldiers. He was content to humor his father and bring an escort. He understood the reason for it. Though, the point was to blend in so that he wouldn't stand out in the crowded streets of Dale. It was his first time outside the confines of the Lonely Mountain, after all. He wanted to observe the workings of the outside world without drawing the attention of the local people of Dale. Now it seems that wasn't possible. The people were bound to look at the young dwarf boy and his armed escort and wonder what dwarf would need such a thing. It wouldn't take them long to figure it out.

Thorin inwardly sighed. His bright blue eyes shifted to his left as he looked out over the rolling hills on the roots of the mountain, covered in a thick forest of pine, birch, ash, and oak trees. He stopped his walk towards the city of Dale to look at the forest.

The two guards looked at each other in confusion before taking a step towards the transfixed dwarf boy. "Is everything alright, m'lord?" one of them asked carefully.

The black haired boy nodded slightly before turned to face them. He pointed out towards the expanse of the forest. "Tell me. Is there a path through those woods that leads to the city of Dale, as well?"

The two dwarven soldiers exchanged a look before returning their gaze to their prince. "There is, but we thought you wished to head straight to Dale," one said slowly, obviously perplexed.

"I did. But now I wish to take a detour. Is that acceptable?" Thorin looked at them, waiting for an answer. He knew that they had to go along with his wishes, but he at least wanted them to have the option of voicing their opinion.

The two soldiers exchanged yet another look before returning their gaze to Thorin. "Whatever you wish to do, m'lord."

Thorin nodded. "Let us be off then."

So, with that, the three dwarves turned from their direct route to Dale and began to head to their left, following the path that lead into the forest.

They followed a barely visible dirt path through the heart of the wood. The soldiers remained vigilant as they searched for any sign of danger, their hands ever resting upon the pommels of their axes and swords. Thorin's eyes darted everywhere, not looking for danger but at the wonder of the forest. He had only ever seen it from a distance from the battlements or a window. He had never actually been walking in it and it was a sight to behold.

As they walked, the path twisted and turned, leading them though the treacherous maze of rocks, sheer cliffs, and steep hills. Thorin's bright blue eyes were drawn to the bright green of the trees and long blades of grass. He heard the shrill twitter of birds as they sang to one another. The prince breathed deep as a gust of warm air washed over him, smelling sweet like flowers. His eyes shifted skyward as he looked at the streams of sunlight that fought through the canopy above him to reach the forest floor.

Suddenly, as Thorin was looking up and not paying attention, a portion of the path gave way as the prince set his foot down upon it. In an instant, the dwarf boy was tumbling head over heels down a steep hill. The two guards let out exclamations of surprise and fear as they watched their prince tumble farther and farther away from them.

Thorin fell for what seemed like an endless amount of time before he finally slid to a stop at the bottom of the steep incline. He gingerly rose to his feet, looking himself over to make entirely certain he was unharmed. When no pain was felt, he straightened to his full height and brushed the dirt, leaves, and twigs from his clothes and hair.

"My Lord! Prince Thorin! Answer us!" the two forlorn and panicked dwarf soldiers called down the hill.

"I'm alright!" Thorin shouted up to them.

The prince could almost feel their sighs of relief as some of their initial panic subsided. "We're coming down to you," they called to him.

Thorin could hear a distant crunch of leaves as the two dwarves prepared to head down the hill. "No! Don't come down here! It's a miracle that I missed any of the trees and rocks during my fall! I fear you may not be as lucky!" Thorin called to them.

The footsteps stopped. "What would you have us do then?"

Thorin was silent for a moment as he thought it through. "Head to Dale and wait for me. I will be there as soon as I find a way back up to the path."

There was a brief moment of hesitation from the two guards. They obviously didn't like the idea of leaving their charge alone in the woods. "Are you entirely sure that is wise?" one of them called down to him, his tone cautious.

"It doesn't appear as though we have many alternatives. There is nothing you can do to help me. Just go on ahead to Dale and wait for me. I will be there as soon as I can," Thorin shouted to them, trying to make his tone reassuring.

There was yet another moment of hesitation from the dwarves. Then, one of them spoke up and said, "Alright. Be safe, my Lord." With that, Thorin could hear the sound of their footsteps slowly retreating down the path.

Thorin looked one last time up at the hill he had fallen down before turning to look at the woods behind him. Suddenly the forest looked more ominous and foreboding to him. The prince found himself feeling glad that he had elected to bring his sword and dagger along with him. He had a feeling he was going to need them. Setting his jaw in determination, the dwarf prince began his march into the woods in search of a way back to the main path. In mere seconds, he disappeared from sight.


	2. A Chance Meeting

4

Arinya strolled confidently through the woods. The high afternoon sun leaked through gaps in the canopy high above her. She playfully kicked at a nearby stone with the toe of her brown boot and watched it skip away into the tall green grass. She brushed a stray strand of long brown hair behind her ear. She held her bow in one hand, an arrow notched into place and at the ready, and a full quiver of arrows strapped across her back. As an extra precaution, Arinya had brought a dagger that her mother had given her as a birthday present, which she kept tucked safely within the confines of her boot. Arinya wore a dark forest green tunic underneath her cloak accompanied by a pair of dark brown pants. They were perfect for blending and exploring the forest around her home.

The young elf girl loved to come out into the woods at this time and practice her archery. She wouldn't practice on animals, though. She tended to practice aiming at the knots on a tree or a leaf blowing in the wind. But seeing as how her arrow supplies were limited, she always had to go and fetch the arrows after they were fired. As of now, she was heading to her favorite place in the forest.

Arinya heard the river before she saw it. The sound of the rapids as they cascaded down the rocks was a loud roar as it raced through the forest. She emerged from the trees onto the edge of the small, yet powerful, river. She looked up and down its length until she saw what she was looking for: an old fallen oak tree that acted as a bridge across the expanse of the river. Arinya couldn't help but think how convenient it was for it to fall there, but never spent long pondering it.

As the elf girl strode towards the tree, her vivid green eyes drifted towards the muddy embankment. In the wet earth she could clearly see the tracks and imprints of various woodland animals that came to the river for a bath, food, or for a simple drink of water. As she looked at the tracks, Arinya made sure that none of the tracks belonged to anything dangerous such as a bear or a wolf. Predators tended to stay far downstream, but it never hurt to be cautious. She didn't have near enough skill to take down a wolf, let alone an entire pack or a full grown bear.

Gingerly, Arinya stepped up onto the old tree. She tested her weight, making sure it would hold her. The tree groaned but held fast. Arinya wasn't sure how long the tree had been there, but it was obviously old. She never knew when the day would be that it would finally break and fall down the river. So, it never hurt anyone to be overly cautious.

Swiftly, Arinya trotted across the tree, each step making the tree groan and creak in protest, until she finally reached the other side and hopped down safely upon the ground. Casting one last look over her shoulder at the tree, Arinya headed back into the trees, her bow still drawn and at the ready.

Her sharp green eyes skimmed the landscape rapidly, looking for anything out of place; anything that would threaten her life. As she walked for what seemed like hours, she remained vigilant, but no threat presented itself. But she didn't relax. She still remained alert. It was a lesson she learned from her mother. As soon as you lower your guard and developed a false sense of security, that was the moment that an enemy would strike.

After a few hours of walking, and the day turned into late afternoon, Arinya finally emerged into her favorite spot in the forest. It was a small clearing, no larger than forty feet in diameter in each direction. Tall blades of grass waved back and forth gracefully in the warm breeze, as if waving a greeting to Arinya as she came into the clearing. Bright splashes of color dotted the clearing from wild flowers, both large and small. Birds sang joyous songs to one another as they flew through the sky or sat perched upon the branch of a tree. Arinya took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet perfume of the flowers and grass, and let it out slowly.

Carefully avoiding stepping on any flowers, Arinya slowly walked to the center of the serene clearing. Once she reached it, she set her bow down in the grass, making sure to take one last wary look around her, before she knelt down in the grass. Her green eyes strayed to a seemingly perfect white flower next to her. Her hand reached up and cupped the beautiful blossom in her hand as she examined it. Her fingers traced around the edge of the petals, enjoying their velvety feel. As she looked at it, she couldn't help but have her thoughts stray.

She recalled seeing a bouquet of these flowers in their home at one point. They had been a gift from her father to her mother after a return trip from Mirkwood. She remembered how happy her mother had been after receiving the gift. She had walked around the house for days, smiling anytime she saw the bouquet, and humming a cheerful tune.

Now, as Arinya sat there, looking at the same flower, she couldn't help but to find herself humming the same tune that her mother had. It felt strange to hear her voice in the silence of the forest, but this was not the first time she had done this. She liked to hum and sing, though only when no one was around that could breathe a word of it. She found herself losing herself in the rise and fall of the notes as she hummed them, losing awareness of her surroundings-the very thing her mother had always warned her against.

"That is a very lovely tune," an unfamiliar voice spoke up from behind her.

Arinya's heart leaped into her throat in surprise, fear, and shock. Out of pure instinct, she grabbed her bow off the ground and whirled onto her knees as turned to point her arrow at this unexpected visitor. Her vivid green eyes turned hard as she looked at this new enemy and was surprised by what she saw.

It was a boy, perhaps a few years older than she was now, but a boy nonetheless. He had long black hair that reached his shoulders, with two thin braids on either side of his face that were clasped in place by small gold rings. He was dressed in light clothing-dark boots, tunic, and pants- and a dark, expensive looking cloak rimmed with fur around the collar. On his finger was a large silver ring with patterns and engravings on it. Bright blue eyes fixed on her own green ones, filled with something that Arinya identified as kindness-perhaps a kind of gentleness.

The boy immediately put up his hands in defense as she whirled to face him, bow aimed at his heart. "I'm sorry to have startled you. I mean you no harm," he said carefully.

Arinya took note of the sword belted at his waist before returning her gaze to the boy before her. She did not lower her weapon or her hard, yet wary, gaze from him.

The dark haired boy seemed to notice her hesitation and took note of where her gaze drifted. Realizing why she didn't lower her weapon, he reached down and unbuckled the sword. He held it in his hand, holding it in the air for her to see, before he threw it away from him. It landed with a thud in the grass a short distance away from Arinya.

Not taking her eyes away from him, she quickly grabbed the sword and brought it close to her, making sure he couldn't grab it, and returned her bow's aim to the boy. Gesturing with her bow, Arinya said, "the dagger, too."

The boy looked at her in slight disbelief, as if he couldn't believe that she knew he had a dagger on him. Careful not to make any sudden moves, he reached slowly behind him to his back. A second later his hand reappeared from the confines of his cloak clutching a small dagger and sheath. As he had done with the sword, he tossed the dagger to Arinya.

As before, Arinya grabbed the dagger and set it beside her with the sword. Satisfied, but still wary, Arinya slowly lowered her bow. As she did so, the boy cautiously lowered his hands to his side. The elf girl cocked her head slightly to the side as she examined him a little closer. "You're a dwarf, aren't you?" she asked.

The boy nodded. "Never seen one of us before, have you?"

Arinya shook her head. Her tensed muscles began to relax a little. "Your kind tends to stay within the mountain. So what are you doing out here?"

The dwarf boy shifted on his feet slightly, folding his arms across his chest as he did so. "I was heading to Dale. I decided to take a slight detour through the forest, but ended up getting lost. Now I don't know how to get back. I was hoping that you could help me," he explained.

"I do know these woods. I could take you back to the road to Dale, but not to the town itself," Arinya offered.

"That would be a great help, thank you," the boy said gratefully. Arinya nodded and began to rise. She slung her bow across her back and un-notched the drawn arrow, placing it back in the quiver. The dwarf boy watched her for a moment before his blue eyes drifted to his weapons at her feet. "Is there any chance that I could get my weapons back?" he asked.

Arinya's green eyes drifted down to the sword and dagger laying in the grass at her feet. Her eyebrows knitted together as she frowned. She still wasn't sure if she could trust this boy. Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft chuckle. Her gaze was instantly on the dwarf boy.

He was smiling as he looked at her. "I swear that I will not stab you in the back-both literally and figuratively," he said, still smiling. Despite herself, a small laugh escaped Arinya's lips. The dark haired boy's smile widened. "Good. I was starting to worry that you did not have the ability to smile or laugh."

The brunette reached down and grabbed the sword and dagger, lifting them from the grass, and threw them to the dwarf. He easily caught each as it was tossed to him and immediately proceeded to buckle them to his belt as they were before.

When he was finished, he straightened up and looked to Arinya for direction. "So? Which direction?" he asked.

Arinya pointed behind her into the trees, in the direction of the river. "It's that way. There is a river there that will lead you straight to the doorstep of Dale. The road must cross this river to get there, so if we just follow the river we will easily find the road," Arinya explained.

The dwarf boy nodded in agreement. "Makes sense."

The elf girl turned in the direction they needed to go. She looked over her shoulder at the dark haired boy. "Shall we?"

He gestured for her to go ahead. "After you," he said with a slight smile.

With one last wary glance at him, Arinya led the way out of the clearing and into the forest beyond, the boy close on her heels. In a few seconds, the young elf and dwarf disappeared from the clearing.


	3. River Rush

4

Arinya and the young dwarf boy arrived at the rivers edge within about the span of an hour or two upon leaving the clearing. He looked from the rushing rapids to the old wooden tree that acted as a bridge. "Are you entirely sure this is safe?" he asked her.

She shrugged. "I've crossed it dozens of times before. Besides, this is the nearest crossing for miles," Arinya told him. As she had done before, the elf girl placed one foot upon the trunk of the old oak, testing her weight. In one swift move, she hopped onto the tree and turned to look at the dark haired boy. "It's perfectly safe," she smiled reassuringly. She extended her hand towards him. "I just wouldn't jostle it too much," she added.

The dwarf took her hand and let out a breathy laugh as he stepped onto the fallen tree. "That's comforting."

Arinya turned and began to slowly and carefully make her way across the tree. She flinched every time the tree made a noise- a groan, creak, crunch, or loud snap. She risked a quick glance over her shoulder and saw that the other boy was similarly worried by the sounds.

Suddenly, Arinya's worst fear became a reality. The day had finally come that the old tree could no longer take anymore crossings. With a loud crack, the tree snapped in half like a twig and plunged into the river, Arinya and the dwarf boy not far behind.

The elf girl fell a short distance before she crashed into the water with a loud splash. She was instantly stuck by the freezing temperature of the water. It jarred her senses and impaired her judgment. She kicked her legs in vain, trying to figure out which way was up, but the rapids just kept spinning her in every which way as it continued to sweep her downstream.

Without warning, Arinya struck something hard. It didn't take her long to figure out that the water had sent her spinning into one of many rocks and large boulders within the rapids. The force of the impact drove the air from her lungs. A sharp pain emanated from Arinya's shoulder where she had hit the rock. She squeezed her eyes shut for a brief moment to block out the pain, before they snapped open again. Arinya extended her legs and attempted to reach out and touch the riverbed. In a moment, the elf girl felt the soft sand on the bottom of her feet. Then, with all her might, Arinya kicked off of the river bed and shot straight to the surface.

Arinya was greeted by the loud roar of the rapids as soon as she surfaced. She immediately took massive gulps of air in between splashes of water as she tried to stay afloat. Her lungs burned from the lack of air and caused a fit of coughing and gasping. Arinya did her best to stay above the water line, but the current threatened to drag her back under to drown her. Each time it happened, she surfaced once more, coughing and gagging as she tried to force the water from her lungs so that she could breathe easily once more.

As she was swept further and further down river, Arinya tried to search for any sign of the dwarf boy. She didn't see him for several agonizing minutes. Then, as if by some miracle, she spotted him just a short distance behind her. He seemed to be struggling to stay above the water the same as she was.

Arinya waved a hand in the air to get his attention, but instantly regretted it. She was dragged under for a brief moment before she managed to force her way back to the surface. "Hey! Over here!" she called to him in between gasps for air and spitting out mouthfuls of water.

She saw his dark head shift in the direction of her voice. "Are you alright?" he called back to her.

"Fine! Just having trouble staying above the water!" she shouted to him. As if in response to her answer, the current started to pull her back under. She kicked her legs as hard as she could, propelling herself back up. Her muscles were getting tired though, and she couldn't seem to get herself above the water any higher than just below her jaw.

"Hold on!" she heard him shout back to her.

Hold on? There was nothing she could do except fight to stay above the water and try not to get dragged back under. Not to mention try to avoid any fast approaching boulders, rocks, or other debris lest she harm herself further. She was doing her best to stay afloat, but she wasn't she how much longer she could keep it up. She could feel her muscles growing weaker, more tired, as they began to fail her. The place where she had struck her shoulder wasn't helping either. It screamed at her to stop moving, but she didn't have a choice, and the injury was starting to take its toll.

All of a sudden, the current grew fierce and over powered her. She was dragged under the tumultuous waters and out of sight. The current pushed and pulled her in every which direction. She lost all sense of time and place as she just let the river wash her further and further downstream. Her lungs began to burn once more from lack of air, but there was nothing she could do to remedy it. She had given up. Her arms and legs could no longer respond. They were exhausted, in pain, and numb from the cold of the water.

This was it. She was going to drown. She was going to die.

Then, seemingly from out of nowhere, Arinya felt arms wrap themselves around her waist. The elf felt herself jump at the sudden contact. Was this what they called Death's Embrace? The arms tightened around her. Suddenly, Arinya realized that she was being pulled to the water's surface.

In a rush, Arinya broke through the surface of the water. Immediately, she was taken with a fit of coughing and gagging as she sought to force the water from her lungs. The burning in her chest began to subside in relief as the gift of fresh air washed over her in a soothing wave.

When she had sufficiently caught her breath, Arinya glanced behind her to see who held her fast above the water's surface. She was greeted by the familiar face of the dwarf boy, whose black hair was plastered to his face. He held her tightly against him, with her back resting against his chest and his arms wrapped securely around her waist, as he held her above the chaotic water.

When he saw her turn, his blue eyes instantly found her own green ones. "Are you alright?" he asked her, having to shout over the rushing of the water.

Arinya choked out another mouthful of water as a wave slammed into her. "I'm alright. But now what do we do?"

His bright blue eyes scanned the river, searching for some way for them to escape its turbulent waters. In an instant, his eyes locked on something far down river. "There!"

Arinya shifted her eyes to where he was looking. For a brief moment, she saw nothing more than the rushing of the rapids and the occasional looming boulder. In the next second she spotted the low hanging branch of a tree drooped over the rushing waters. She turned back to the dwarf boy. "Are you sure we'll be able to grab it?" she asked him worriedly.

"We're going to have to if we expect to get out of this," he said back to her, his eyes still locked on the upcoming branch with determination.

Arinya nodded, though she still had her doubts. She looked back downstream and was instantly greeted by a massive boulder looming out of the water. "Look out!" she shouted.

She could feel the boy's muscles tense against her. "Kick away from it!' he called to her.

The elf girl leaned back further into the dwarf boy's embrace and brought up her legs. In an instant, her boots connected with the hard surface of the boulder and, with every ounce of strength she had left, kicked off of it. The force of the kick sent them rushing safely around the potential danger.

Arinya allowed herself a sigh of relief. "One disaster averted," she said.

"Now let's focus on trying to get out of the current disaster, shall we?" the boy said smartly. The elf girl couldn't help but to roll her vivid green eyes. "Get ready," he said into her ear.

The low hanging branch, their hope for escape from the river, was fast approaching. Intensifying their kicks to keep them above the water, Arinya and the boy each reached a hand up to grab the branch. A second later, their hands were clasped onto their escape. Hoisting themselves above the water, not without a little effort, and onto the branch. Now, only the area from their knees down was still in the rushing rapids. Slowly but surely, the two of them began to shimmy their way down the branch towards the small rise above the water where the tree itself was rooted. As they made their way to safety, Arinya couldn't help but have her thought turn dark as she thought it would be just their luck if the branch broke and plunged them back into the frigid waters.

But it didn't happen and within about a minute or two, Arinya and her companion found themselves on dry earth once more. They lay in the grass, silent, their chests heaving followed by the occasional cough as their lungs sought to expel any remaining water. Their bodies were wracked with shivers from their damp clothes.

After she had sufficiently caught her breath, Arinya rose gingerly to her feet, careful to avoid aggravating her shoulder. She looked upstream, her green eyes filling with despair. "We're so far away," she breathed.

The dwarf boy rose to his feet and followed her gaze to the river. "It washed us a long distance downstream." He turned his blue eyes to Arinya. "Do you know the way back?"

Arinya was silent for a moment before she answered. "It should be easy enough. We just need to follow the river until we get somewhere we recognize. Like I said, this river practically leads to the doorstep of Dale and the road that leads to it."

"Sounds simple enough," the dwarf boy commented.

Arinya shook her head as her green eyes sought his own blue ones. "Look." She pointed to the sky. The dark haired boy shifted his gaze to where she pointed and realized with a dread that the sun was setting, casting a fiery orange light down upon the forest. "We'll never make it. We'll die of a chill if we walk through the woods in these wet clothes. Not to mention the fact that wolves and bears lurk in this area of the forest at night. It would probably be safer to just make camp and set out in the morning," she told him.

The dwarf nodded in agreement. "Alright. Let's find somewhere safe to spend the night then."


	4. Midnight Confessions

5

The sun had nearly set completely behind the trees before Arinya and the dwarf boy finally found somewhere to make camp. They took shelter beneath an overhang along a ridgeline that shadowed the river. The two of them instantly set out to collect firewood and some rocks to use to start a fire. Just before the sun had completely set behind the trees, swallowing the forest in darkness, they returned and built the fire under the overhang. Settling in with their backs resting up against the cool rock of the ridgeline, the two of them gathered close about the fire. They watched and listened to the river as it churned past in a series of rocky drops. They had both taken off their cloaks and set them next to the fire to dry. They huddled as close as they dared to the fire, trying to ward off night's chill. For several long minutes, there was no conversation as the two of them stared into the flames, lost in their own thoughts.

Arinya's green eyes shifted to the dwarf boy who sat a short distance away from her. She wondered at his character as she looked at him. He seemed to be forthright and honest when they first met, but she couldn't help but feel that he wasn't telling the whole truth. She continued to stare at him, trying to figure him out.

It didn't take long for him to notice where her gaze was directed. He didn't take his eyes from the fire as he spoke. "I know you have never met a dwarf before, but it is still rude to stare," he said, a slight amusement evident in his voice.

Arinya's eyes instantly darted to the fire. "Sorry. I didn't mean to," she apologized, her tone sheepish.

He chuckled. "It's alright. I am not offended," he told her, a smile playing on his lips. His bright blue eyes shifted to her face. After a moment he asked, "You are an elf, are you not?"

"Yes, in a way." Arinya drew her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She didn't take her eyes from the fire.

"What do you mean 'in a way?'" he inquired.

"My father is an elf and my mother is of the race of man," Arinya told him quietly.

The dwarf boy seemed mildly surprised. "A half-breed?"

"Please don't call me that," Arinya whispered, tightening her grip on her legs.

"I apologize. How did…how does…" He searched for the words but couldn't seem to find them.

Luckily, Arinya knew what he was trying to ask. She turned to look at him, a slight smile on her face. "How did they meet?"

"Something like that, yes," he said, nodding.

Her green eyes returned to looking at the flames, watching them dance as a gust of wind blew through their small shelter. She was silent for a moment before she began. "My father is a very talented archer. He lived in Rivendell for many years until he received a request from Thranduil, the King of Mirkwood, to come and train some of his elven hunters. My father complied and moved to Mirkwood. Sometime during that time, he met my mother. She is a hunter, you see. She learned from her father and is a talented archer herself. From the way I understand it, they bonded quickly over their shared talents and eventually fell in love. After my father had finished training the Mirkwood archers, he married my mother and they moved into a cabin just outside Dale. Shortly after, they had my brother, Arandil, and then me a few years later. My father still returns to Mirkwood now and then to train a few more hunters at Thranduil's request. My mother hunts in the surrounding woods and sells the pelts and meats in Dale. In fact, that's what she was doing today." Arinya buried her face in her hands. "They're going to be worried sick when I don't return home. I told them I would be back by nightfall," she groaned.

"We'll get back. It just won't be nightfall of this day," he said with a slight smile.

Arinya let out a small laugh. "I guess that's true." Her green eyes shifted to the dwarf boy. "What about you? Why does a dwarf wish to leave his mountain and travel to Dale?" she inquired.

"For the simple fact that I had never left the mountain before," he answered.

Arinya's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Never?"

He nodded. "Never. The closest I could get was by looking out a nearby window. I would see the city and the forest in the distance, but knew I could never get there. I had finally convinced my father to let me go and explore beyond the gates of the Lonely Mountain. I wanted to take the long route through the forest, seeing as how it was my first time being in one instead of reading about it in a book or seeing it from a distance. It was my first time smelling the perfume of the flowers, hearing the wind blow through the trees and grass, seeing the birds settling into their nests…"

"First time nearly drowning in a river," Arinya added.

The dark haired boy chuckled. "That as well. There were so many things I wanted to experience, but instead I ended up getting lost after I fell from the path." His smile widened slightly and he turned to look at her. "That was when I met you."

It was Arinya's turn to laugh. "And what a help I have been."

"You have been," he assured her. "Disregarding the current situation," he quickly added.

Arinya smiled. She reached up a hand and began to pull the tie out of her wet hair. She ran her fingers through her long brown locks, untangling it and freeing it from the remainder of her long braid. Her hair looked as if it was nearly black due to its damp state. She began to wring out her hair, expelling any more water. A few droplets fell from her hair and fell into the grass at her feet.

The girl directed her gaze back to her companion, still squeezing the water from her hair. "So was that the main reason you wanted to leave the mountain? To experience things you hadn't before?" she asked.

The boy shrugged. "It was part of it." He turned to look at her. "Is that not a good enough reason to want to leave?"

"I did not say that," she said quickly.

The dwarf chuckled once again. He returned his gaze to the fire before him. He rubbed his hands together and held them before the flame in an attempt to warm them. "I love my home. I truly do, as any person should. But I wanted to get away. It was more than just feeling the need to explore and see things I hadn't before. It was…"

"A need to simply get out and not stay trapped indoors while the rest of the world passed you by," Arinya finished. A smile appeared on her face when she saw the surprised look cross the dark haired boy's face as he turned to look at her. "I feel the same way sometimes. It's why I like to come out here." She gestured around them to the woods. "It's peaceful. Somewhere I can just be alone with my own thoughts. If I want to go out into the world, all I have to do is walk out my door or ask my mother if I can go with her when she goes into Dale. I have even accompanied my father when he has traveled to Mirkwood. It is easier for me to go out than it is for you. I can't imagine what it must be like to be trapped within a mountain."

"It is not a bad life. Like I said before, I love my home. I love being there with my people. I just want to get away from it all sometimes," he said, his voice sounding far away.

Arinya watched him for a long moment as he stared into the flames, deep in thought. Finally she spoke up and said, "Well, if you ever wish to, you can always come and visit me in the woods," she offered.

The dwarf boy looked at her, surprise and gratefulness mixed in his expression. "Really?"

"Sure. We can have more adventures like this," she smiled. The two of them laughed.

When his laughter had subsided, the dark haired boy smiled at her and said, "I think I may take you up on your offer someday. We will have to see if my father lets me leave the mountain ever again after today. You see, I was supposed to return before nightfall, the same as you. He will be furious."

Arinya rested her chin on the top of her knees. "I'm sure he's worried about you as well."

The dwarf boy nodded. "I'm sure he is. But that will all disappear once I return and he realizes I am safe. He will confine me to the mountain and never let me leave."

"If he does, it is only because he cares about you. You're his son."

His attention shifted to Arinya, his blue eyes finding her green ones. "Won't your father be upset?" he asked.

Arinya shrugged. "My father doesn't anger very easily. I don't know if I have ever seen him raise his voice. It is my mother that I have to worry about." She sighed. "They could be out looking for me right now."

"Let's hope they find us," he said in response.

Arinya shook her head. "They would never think to search this far down river. I've never come this deep into the woods. I'm not even sure if my mother has either."

"So we're on our own then?"

Arinya nodded. Her fingers moved quickly as she weaved her braid. When she was finished, she tied it off and let it fall down across her shoulder. She stretched her arms over her head and yawned. "Perhaps we should get some sleep."

The dwarf boy nodded. "Do you want me to take the first watch?" he offered.

Arinya shook her head. "No. It's alright. I'll take the first watch." She brought up a finger and gestured at her pointed ears. "Elven hearing. I will hear anything coming before I see it."

"Alright." He began to lay down next to the fire. "Just wake me when you get tired and we will switch."

"Sure," Arinya agreed.

Within minutes the dark haired boy was asleep and Arinya was left alone to stare out into the night.

Hours passed as Arinya remained vigilant in her watch. Through the stand of trees, she could still hear the road of the river as it cascaded around rocks and down small drops. She occasionally heard the high pitch chitter of a bat as it flew overhead. A chill night breeze blew through the trees, stirring the leaves. Arinya shivered and moved closer to the fire. Her cloak had dried a short while ago, and as the breeze wafted through their small camp, she tightening her cloak tighter around her body. Her vivid green eyes skimmed the darkness and her ears strained for the slightest noise. But no danger presented itself.

Arinya leaned back until she felt the cool, hard rock against her. She breathed in the crisp night air and let it out in a long, slow sigh. She found her gaze straying to her companion as it had so many times before.

The boy was fast asleep, his breathing deep and even. He was perfectly still except for the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Arinya regarded him silently. He was the first dwarf she had ever seen. She had heard descriptions of them from her family and from the citizens of Dale on her visits with her mother. She wasn't sure if she would ever see one though; let alone a child a few years older than she was.

To be perfectly honest, Arinya had not spent much time with children her own age. She didn't play with any of the children in Dale and no one lived out in the woods like she did. Even on her trips to Mirkwood with her father, she didn't really socialize with any of the other children. The only one she played with was actually relative- her cousin to be more exact. She had never spent much time with anyone outside her family. In actuality, she had no non-related friends. Now, here was this dwarven boy. They joked with one another and talked candidly with one another. This boy was probably the closest thing that she had to a friend.

Suddenly, Arinya's thoughts were interrupted by loud, distant howls. The elf girl froze as she strain her ears to listen. The howls came again, closer and more numerous than before. Arinya leaped to her feet and reached over to her sleeping companion. She gently shook him.

Bright blue eyes snapped opened to look at her. "What's happening?"

Arinya put a finger to her lips and pointed out into the dark of the woods. "Wolves," she whispered.


	5. The Chase

4

The dark haired boy immediately leaped to his feet, searching the darkness. Arinya grabbed his now dry cloak off the ground and shoved it at him. He took it and began to secure it around his shoulders. Arinya grabbed her bow and quiver off the ground beside her. She felt her heart drop as she looked at the contents of the quiver. She only had seven arrows left. She must have lost the others in the river.

Another howl sounded from somewhere just beyond the river. Arinya silently prayed that losing those arrows wouldn't lead to their death. Hurriedly, she slung her quiver over her shoulder and swiftly notched an arrow into her bow. Moving over to the fire, she began to kick dirt onto it to extinguish it. Once the dwarf finished securing his sword and dagger to his belt, he came over and began to help her.

In seconds, the fire went out and the elf and the dwarf were left in darkness. All Arinya could hear in the still of the night was their breathing and the loud beating of her own heart. The two of them strained their ears to listen.

For a moment, there was nothing. Then, from out of the stillness of the night, a howl sounded from so close that Arinya almost screamed.

The boy looked at her, his face barely visible in the small amount of starlight that pierced through the canopy of the trees to reach the forest floor. "They're across the river," he whispered. Arinya nodded, though she wasn't sure if he saw it. "We need to move." He hurriedly pushed her ahead of him as they began to run out from beneath the overhang.

The two of them raced out of their shelter and disappeared into the trees. The sound of their pounding feet filled their ears. The wolves would hear them running away. Arinya did her best to soften her footfalls but there wasn't much she could do to remedy it. Instead, she focused on putting as much distance between the overhang and herself. She glanced to her side and saw the boy darting in between the trees, keeping pace with her.

Suddenly, another ear piercing howl rose up from somewhere not far behind them. Arinya saw the dwarf boy's face turn in her direction. Their thoughts were the same. The wolves were at the camp. In an instant, the two of them could hear howls coming towards them. The wolves had caught there scent and were chasing them down.

Arinya lengthened her strides, trying to speed up, but to no avail. Her muscles were still tired from their river adventure earlier that day. Not to mention the fact that she had forgotten to tend to her shoulder when she had a chance. Every time she put her foot down it jarred her shoulder, causing her to grit her teeth against the pain. Still, she kept running, even though she knew they stood no chance of outrunning a wolf pack.

Several howls accompanied by a few barks and snarls sounded not far behind them. They were gaining on them. Arinya glanced over her shoulder, expecting to see shadows surging through the trees after them. So far there was nothing, but her keen hearing was already picking up on the steady beat of several pairs of paws chasing after them along with heavy panting.

All of a sudden, a howl broke the near silence directly ahead of them. Arinya and her companion skidded to a halt.

Then, from out of the darkness of the woods, several massive wolves trotted out to face them. Their muzzles were curled up into fierce snarls, revealing sharp white canine teeth. Their gray coats glistening and shined in the starlight that leaked through the trees.

The two of them turned to try to run in another direction but quickly found themselves ringed in by an entire pack. There was no where left to run. They were trapped.

Instantly, the boy drew his sword and Arinya readied her bow. They stood back to back, each guarding the others blind spot. The elf girl mental kicked herself. There were more wolves than there were arrows in her quiver. She did have the dagger in her boot if she needed it. Her green eyes flicked to briefly look at the dwarf before returning to the wolves. She really hoped he knew how to use that sword of his.

The wolves growled and snarled at them. They feinted, unsure of when to leap at their prey. Then, all at once, three wolves lost their patience and leaped at them. Instantly, Arinya brought up her bow and released an arrow. It sailed through the air for a brief moment before it found its mark and buried itself deep in the wolf's neck. Before the wolf hit the ground, dead, Arinya had already drawn another arrow from her quiver and began to search for her next target. She was surprised when she didn't see the other two wolves.

She risked a quick glance over her shoulder. She looked just in time to see the boy pulling his sword from the chest of a fallen wolf. Another one lay dead a short distance away. She couldn't help but feel slightly surprised. Perhaps he did know how to wield a sword. He clearly was more skilled in its use than she expected.

Arinya returned her full attention to the situation at hand and the hungry wolves before her. Then an idea popped into her head. Perhaps if they killed the alpha, it would scare the wolves- or at least momentarily confuse them-so that they could get away. It was worth a shot seeing as how they didn't have many other options. Arinya's vivid green eyes scanned each of the wolves before her, searching for some semblance of a chain of command. She tried to look for a wolf that seemed to be keeping the others in line or something along those lines. But she never saw anything. The alpha may not even be there at all for all she knew.

Another wolf leaped from the encirclement to Arinya's right. She turned and brought her bow to bear. She fired and arrow, which struck the wolf in its midsection. It let out a high pitched yelp that instantly caused Arinya to regret her action. She never did like to hear an animal in pain, whether it was trying to kill her or not. Luckily, a second later, the boy brought up his sword and slashed it into the wounded wolf, ending its misery. He jerked his bloodstained sword from its body and turned to face the other encroaching predators.

Suddenly, something slammed into Arinya, knocking her sprawling. She heard the boy exclaim in surprise at the sudden, unexpected attack. Arinya instantly tried to get up, but froze.

The biggest wolf she had ever seen stood just inches from her. Its fur was a charcoal black. Its luminous gimlet eyes stared balefully at her. Its muzzle slowly curled up to reveal sharp white teeth. A long slow growl escaped from its mouth as it slowly inched closer to her.

Arinya found herself backing up in horror, but she retreated straight into the trunk of a nearby tree. She pressed herself as close to the tree as she could, but there was no escape. She saw the boy out the corner of her eye trying to fight towards her, but the rest of the pack blocked him and kept him at bay. The brunette risked a glance to the side and saw her bow laying in the grass a few feet away from her. It was out of her reach and, therefore, completely useless to her.

Slowly, she tried to reach down towards her boot to retrieve her dagger, not taking her eyes off the massive wolf. The alpha released a menacing growl that stopped her.

Unmasked fear filled her eyes as she looked into the wolf's golden eyes. She didn't want to die. She wanted to go home. She wanted to see her mother, father, and brother again.

Then, for some reason, the wolf stopped its advance. The snarl didn't leave its face, but it just stood there staring at her.

Confusion welled up inside Arinya. She wasn't sure of the reason, but decided to test her luck. Slowly and carefully, she raised her hand and began to extend it towards the alpha's head. Instantly, the black wolf uttered a growl, its ears flattening against its head. But it didn't move away or snap its jaws at her. It held perfectly still. Arinya paused for a moment before she continued her advance. The wolf's lips relaxed and its fierce snarl disappeared. Cautiously, the alpha leaned towards her approaching hand, its nose trying to smell her better.

A second later, her hand gently made contact with the black wolf's massive head. The alpha let out a loud huff as he moved a step closer, his golden eyes looking squarely into Arinya's own green ones. Her hand softly moved down to stroke the side of his head. Her hand slipped slowly down to the wolf's cheek and stopped there.

Arinya searched for what to do next. For some reason, the monstrous wolf had stopped its advance before. Why was that? She thought back to that moment, wracking her brain. Suddenly, a thought came into her mind. What if it had somehow understood her? Knew what she was thinking? That could have been why it stopped. It sensed her desire to live and see her family once more. It wasn't something that Arinya had ever heard of happening, but to her it was not out of the realm of possibility.

Arinya tried to clear her thoughts as best as she could as she sought for what to say. As she was thinking, she could feel something at the back of her mind. When she focused on it, she realized that it was an intense emotion- anger. But she didn't feel angry at all. The feeling was somehow detached from her. Like it wasn't her own. Sudden realization dawned on her. This wasn't her emotion. She was somehow picking up on the wolf's. But she didn't understand why it was angry with her. She expected something along the signs of hunger, but that wasn't there. The wolf wasn't hungry. So then why did the wolf pack attack them?

All of a sudden, an idea came into her head. They were trespassing. This is the wolf pack's territory and they were only trying to defend their home.

Mustering her courage, Arinya did her best to put a look of genuine compassion and kindness onto her face. _We both apologize,_ she thought, trying to convey her thoughts to the wolf with her mind. Her eyes did not stray from the alpha's. _We didn't know this was your territory. We got lost and were merely passing through on our way home. I deeply apologize for killing those members of your pack. We thought you were hunting us for food and acted in defense. Please let us go and we will trouble you no more._ Arinya finished her plea and released her hand from the wolf's cheek, letting it fall to her side. The elf girl held her breath as she waited for some semblance of a response.

Then, with a loud snort, the massive black wolf turned from Arinya and loped into the darkness of the woods. In an instant, he disappeared from sight. Not a moment later, the rest of the pack turned and followed their alpha into the dark forest. In seconds the entire pack was long gone.

Arinya released her captive breath in a rush. They had let them go. The sound of footsteps reminded her of the dwarf boy's presence.

He walked up to her and knelt down. He was out of breath from trying to fend off the wolves. "Are you alright?" he asked. His eyes quickly looked her up and down, searching for any sign of injury.

Arinya shook her head. "No, I'm fine." He stood up and extended his hand down to her. She gratefully took it and he pulled her to her feet. She simply stared off in the direction that the wolf pack had retreated.

"What just happened?" he asked her, disbelief evident in his voice about what he had witnessed a moment before.

"I…I don't know…" she answered uncertainly. She looked down at her hand which had just rested on the alpha wolf's face only moments ago. "I just don't know."


	6. Traveling Companions

6

That night, Thorin and his elven companion slept undisturbed underneath a stand of tall pine trees near the river's edge. Both were so exhausted from their adventure in the river and the fight with the wolf pack that they had completely forgotten to stand watch. Instead, they both slept through the night and into early morning undisturbed. After awakening, they set off once more, following the river upstream. As they walked they talked with one another, exchanging jokes and small bits of information about one another.

"Alright. It is your turn," she said. She walked just ahead of the dwarven prince, her elven strides carrying her across the grass in a kind of graceful dance or skip. The girl held her hands clasped behind her back as she looked over her shoulder at him. "Are you going to ask me a question or not?" she asked with a teasing smile.

"I'm thinking," he smiled back. His eyes strayed down to his feet as he walked, watching as his feet crushed the lush green grass with every footstep. His lifted his head up. "How did you know that I had a dagger under my cloak back in the clearing? There was no possible way for you to have seen it."

The girl's smile broadened slightly. She turned around and began to walk backwards so that she could see him better. "That's a question I'm afraid I cannot answer," she said

"You said we would answer each other's questions no matter what they were. So, that applies to you as well," Thorin reminded her.

"True, but as I am the one who created the rule, I reserve the right to change it when and as I please," she declared. She turned back around suddenly, her long braid whipping through the air to land on her shoulder, and began walked forward again.

"That is not fair," he said, a slight amusement coloring his tone as his blue eyes watched her.

The elven girl shrugged her shoulders. "Then you should not have agreed to the terms of the game."

"I wouldn't have if the terms had been known to me from the beginning," the prince added.

"That is a shame, isn't it? Well then? Ask me another one," she encouraged.

Thorin sighed. He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache. "Alright. There is one question that comes to mind."

"What is it?"

"Last night, when we were being hunted by the wolves, what did you do to the wolf that had you cornered by the tree? He had you at his mercy. There was nothing you could do to escape. So why did he let us go after you touched him? And why did he even let you touch him in the first place?" Thorin asked her in a rush. To be perfectly honest, he had been waiting to ask her, but he thought he should give her the chance to tell him on her own. It seems, though, that his patience had finally worn thin as his questions demanded answers.

The elven girl was silent as they walked. She continued looking straight ahead, her shoulders tense. Thorin thought perhaps she simply didn't want to tell him- that this was another question she didn't wish to answer. He immediately felt guilty for asking. Perhaps it was an issue that was simply none of his business. He was about to open his mouth to apologize when she answered.

"I'm not sure," she said so quietly that Thorin barely heard it. She brought up her hands, and let them face her palm up. Her head dipped slightly as she looked down at her outstretched hands. She was silent for another long moment, but this time Thorin was content to wait.

After a moment she stopped her walk, Thorin stopping alongside her. He looked at her sideways, trying to discern what she was thinking. All he could read on her face was confusion. But her eyes belied the true nature of what she was thinking. She was scared. The elven girl was scared by what she had done.

She let her arms fall back limply to her sides as she tilted her head back to look at the canopy of trees above. She closed her eyes as she felt the warm sun beat down on her face. A second later, her green eyes snapped open and shifted to find Thorin's. "Elves naturally have a strong connection to nature," she began. "Animals can seem to understand us when we speak to them in elvish. It is almost like we share the language with them. I've been thinking what happened with the wolves last night over and over, trying to reason or explain what happened. As of now, I have no answer. I have no amount of ideas, notions, or concepts as to what happened." She smiled, almost sadly at Thorin. "And it scares me."

Not knowing how to comfort her, Thorin reached up a hand and placed it gently on her shoulder. He tried to convey as much empathy and understanding as he could through this simple connection.

The elven girl turned away from him and walked a few steps out of his reach. Thorin just let his hand fall to his side as he continued to watch her with a careful eye.

"I could sense it," she spoke up suddenly.

The dwarf prince cocked his head ever so slightly to the side in confusion. He took a step towards her, but she did not move away or turn around. "Sense what exactly?"

She turned around and looked at him. "I could sense the wolf's feelings. Maybe even his thoughts through the simple connection of touching him. I think he read my thoughts as I read his. I spoke to him without uttering a single word," she told Thorin. She held up her hand as if it would further her point. "No elf I have ever heard of has been able to achieve such a thing."

"Then perhaps it is a blessing- not something to be feared or ignored. It saved our lives and, for now, I suppose that is enough for me," Thorin told her gently. The elf girl looked down at the toe of her boots before returning her gaze to the dwarf boy. She smiled at him and Thorin did the same. "Alright then. I do believe it is your turn to ask me a question."

The elf girl nodded. She took a few steps forward, her brow furrowed in thought. She was silent for several long moments before she finally turned around to face the dwarf prince once more. "What is it like inside the Lonely Mountain?" she asked curiously, her head cocking slightly to the side.

Thorin raised his dark eyebrows in surprise. "That is your question?" he asked.

She nodded once again. "That is my question," she confirmed.

The dwarf prince crossed his arms across his chest and considered the best way to describe his home. He had never actually had to describe the interior of the Lonely Mountain before. "It's magnificent. It truly is the most incredible sight to behold." He paused searching for the words. "To be perfectly honest, I'm not entirely sure how to explain it. I've never had to describe it before," he told her.

The elf girl let out a breathy laugh. "It's quite alright. I think I can tell how magnificent it is merely by listening to the admiration and awe for your own home in your voice," she smiled. She uttered a sigh. "I wish I could see it someday."

Thorin's eyes shifted to find her own green ones. "What if it were possible?"

She looked at him sideways. "What do you mean?"

"I propose a deal." Thorin turned to face her directly and she did the same, her expression curious. "If I come to visit you in the forest, then you must visit me within the mountain."

Her eyebrows raised in surprise. "Really? Is that even permitted?" she asked, not bothering to hide the incredulity from her voice.

Thorin nodded. "I believe I can invite you as a guest. Then you can see the mountain for yourself," he told her with a smile.

A small smile appeared on her face as well. She stuck out her hand towards him and Thorin clasped it in his own as the shook hands firmly. "You've got yourself a deal," she said happily. They released one another's hand and let them fall to their sides. She nodded towards Thorin as she walked past him, continuing their commute up the river towards Dale. "I believe it is your turn now."

Thorin nodded as he moved to walk beside her. He sifted through possible questions. He had repeatedly thought to ask her what her name was, but thought better of it. If he asked her, then it would be inevitable that she would ask what his was for her next turn. He liked the fact that she didn't know who he was. If she had, she would most definitely have treated him differently. He liked the way things were now. He loved how outspoken she was about his flaws and even repeatedly called him on them and poked fun at his expense. She had called him a fool when he had tripped over the root of a tree earlier. She wouldn't have done that if she knew who he was. So, for as long as they were traveling together, he wouldn't tell her his true name. In fact, she didn't seem inclined to share hers either. Therefore, as long as neither of them asked, they wouldn't tell. It seemed to be a fair partnership.

The dwarf prince's eyes strayed to the elf girl, looking her up and down has he sought another question. He saw her reach up a hand and slowly massage her shoulder. He clearly saw her wince in pain as her fingers came into contact with it. "Are you injured?" he asked, concern appearing on his features.

The elf girl let out a small laugh as she looked at him. "Is that your question?" She let her hand fall to her side as she let out a sigh. "I hit a rock when we were in the river. I must have forgotten to tend to it when we had a chance the previous night," she explained.

"Stop. We must see how bad it is," the prince told her firmly, grabbing her arm to slow her.

"It is alright. It is probably nothing more than a bruise. I will not die from it," she said with a smile.

"Nevertheless, I will be the judge of that," he told her strongly.

She laughed once again as she stopped walking and turned to face him. "I had no idea that dwarves were also known for their medical practices," she smiled teasingly.

Thorin smiled back. "I will admit that we pale in comparison with the skill of the elves, but we do know a few things." He reached forward, but stopped. His eyes flicked up to find the elf girl's, looking for permission. She simply nodded, visibly bracing herself for his touch. He extended her hand towards her and gingerly touched her shoulder. He saw her bite her lip against the pain. He did his best to be gentle as he examined her injury. Carefully, he pulled down the collar of her tunic, albeit hesitantly and with her blessing, and inspected her shoulder further. He was instantly greeted by a massive, angry looking bruise of varying colors to marred the perfect pale of her skin.

Releasing the edge of her tunic, Thorin took a step back. The elf girl quickly shifted the hem of her shirt back into place. "Well?" she asked.

"You were right. It was simply a bruise," he told her.

She nodded. Suddenly, she looked up at him, her green eyes bright. "Are you hungry?"

Thorin shrugged. "I haven't had anything since I left the previous afternoon," he told her. "Why?"

She pointed above his head. "Fortune has smiled upon us," she smiled.

Trying to discern her meaning, the dwarf prince turned around. At first he saw nothing, unsure of what she was pointing at. Then he saw it: a massive apple tree just a short distance away. He turned back to her, but she was already walking past him towards the tree. Nimbly, with the grace that only someone of elvish blood could possess, she climbed up the tree. She darted and leaped easily from branch to branch until she reached the branches that bore the most fruit about ten feet above the ground. Carefully, the tree branch boeing under her weight, the elf girl shimmied out onto its length.

Quickly, she picked several bright red apples from the tree and tossed them to Thorin. He managed to catch two of them, but failed to grab a third as he bounced off of the top of his head and fell to the ground. Instantly, the elf girl was taken with a fit of laughter. "I suppose dwarves are not known for their catching abilities either," she called down to him in a teasing tone. She tossed a few more apples to the ground before she began to climb back down.

"Not particularly," he called back with a smile.

The elf landed securely on her feet with a dull thud and straightened to her full height, a smile on her face as well. "That is a shame," she stated bluntly.

"Isn't it? It is the tragedy of the dwarves," he said.

"I'm sure," she answered, raising her eyebrows.

Finally, Thorin thought of his next questions. "You are good with that bow?" he asked.

The elf girl let out a breathy laugh. "That is your next question?" she asked.

"Part of it."

She shrugged and nodded. "I suppose."

"Well, then. Are you at all experienced with how to handle a sword?" Thorin's hand shifted to rest on the pommel of his sword.

He saw the elf girl's eyes move from his sword to his face warily. "I know a few things. Not enough to claim to be a master, though. I prefer my bow." She bent down and grabbed one of the apples off of the ground and bit into it. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I will admit that you are deadly from a distance. But when fighting in close quarters, you are rendered helpless. I noticed it last night with the wolves," Thorin told her.

"And what are you proposing? Are you going to give me a lesson?" she asked, taking another bite of her apple.

Thorin smiled. "That is exactly what I plan to do."

A/N: Thank you and welcome to all the new readers and followers of this story! I would just like to briefly say I'm sorry if I get anything wrong in terms of culture or history. I would also like to say that I am not good at the eloquent way of speaking that the people of Middle Earth have, but I am working on it. For the time being, it seems to work since Arinya and Thorin are young and have not yet attained the more sophisticated way of speaking. I hope to improve this when they get older.

Thanks for all the favorites and followers! Please give me reviews to let me know how I am doing!


	7. Swordplay

4

Thorin watched the elf girl with a critical eye has she nervously held his sword. It was clearly of a dwarven make, its design using the same patterns, lines, and symbols that were utilized in their architecture, art, and even their written language. She clutched it in both her hands, clearly not used to holding such a weapon. Thorin planned to change that.

"I feel I must confess something," she spoke up. The dwarf prince's bright blue eyes shifted to find her own green ones. "I do not think I will be able to master the art of combat with a blade within a few hours," she told him with a slight smile.

"No, you will not. But you will learn a few things that may aid you in future endeavors," Thorin answered. He walked up to her and kicked her feet further apart. "Understandably, you have an archer's stance. It is designed to give you stability when aiming at your target, but leaves you unprepared if you were to be attacked up close. We saw an example of this with the wolves when the alpha caught you by surprise. What I mean to teach you is a warrior's stance. It is the first step in learning how to master blade to blade combat." The dwarf prince circled her as he spoke, his eyes scrutinizing every detail.

"I'm not entirely sure why I agreed to this," he heard her mumble with a sigh.

Thorin ignored her. He wasn't entirely certain why he was doing this either. Perhaps it was because he was growing tired of the elf girl always being the one to teach him something. Perhaps he wanted to be the teacher for a change.

The dwarf boy stepped towards her and adjusted her grip upon the hilt of the sword. "You're too stiff. Relax your elbows." The elf girl complied to the best of her ability and let her elbows bend and relax. "There. That's better. Now, you will use your wrists, your elbows, and your shoulders to move the sword. By using each of these parts, you have more control over the movement of the blade."

She nodded. "Alright. I think I can grasp that concept."

"Good. Now, what are you? Left or right handed?" he asked her.

"Umm," she considered it for a moment before answering. "Right."

"Okay, then you will lead with your left foot." The elf girl looked at him in confusion. Thorin smiled as he continued on to explain. "That way, on the sword, you can channel all your power into an attack by leading with your right arm. Here."

He reached forward and gently took the sword from her hands. Her green eyes watched his hands as the expertly wrapped around the hilt of the blade. She took note of the movement of the blade. Thorin put his left foot forward, quickly casting a look at the elf girl to make sure she was watching. Demonstrating, Thorin brought up the sword. Leading with his right hand, he carved the sword through the air using his lead arm to put power behind the attack.

When he was finished, he flipped the sword around and offered her the hilt. "Do you understand now?" he asked, genuinely wanting to know.

She nodded. "I believe so, yes." She took back the sword from Thorin. The elf girl gripped the hilt the way she had been shown, positioned her feet, relaxed her elbows, and put on an expression of complete determination onto her face. Doing as she had seen Thorin do only moments before, she led with her left foot and swung the sword through the air, using her right arm to lead and put power behind the attack. When she had completed her swing, she looked to Thorin for input. "How was that?" she asked.

"Not bad," he complimented, sincerely impressed. "Perhaps there is a chance that we can get you to master the blade within a few hours after all."

The brunette laughed. "I highly doubt that."

Thorin joined her in her laughter. "Maybe not. But at least, you can effectively learn the stance and the swing. If you want to continue, we can continue this when you come to visit me within the mountain or when I visit you," the dwarf boy offered.

"Alright," she smiled. "Make that a part of the deal. Maybe I could also teach you about archery."

Thorin chuckled. "I'm not sure that would end too well. I may end up shooting an innocent bystander," he joked.

She grinned. "That's what the training is for." She handed Thorin back his sword. "I think we should keep moving. The sun is starting to set and I'd rather not spend another night in the woods. Besides, our parents will probably be worried sick if we are gone for much longer."

Thorin swiftly sheathed his sword at his waist and looked back at his elven companion. "Are we close?"

The brunette nodded and smiled. "Yes. If we walk fast and don't rest, we can probably get there by the middle of the night."

"Well then, let us be off." Thorin was about to start walking when he stopped and pointed at the pile of apple cores left on the ground. "What should we do with those?"

The elf girl paused and cast a look down at the remainder of the fruit. Her eyes flicked back up to Thorin and shrugged. "Just leave them there. The animals will take care of the rest," she told him.

"Fair enough," Thorin commented.

With that, the two companions turned and began to follow the river upstream to their destination once again. They walked for around an hour, content to walk in silence. The sun was quickly setting behind the trees. Birds flew through the darkening skies, seeking refuge in the branches of the trees or the sanctuary of their nests. A light wind blew through the leaves and rustled the grass. The roar of the river was ever present to their left as they continued their march onward to their destination.

"Hey." The elf girl turned her head to look at him. "If we get somewhere in the woods that you recognize, would you be able to find your way back to your home from there?" he asked.

She shook her head, her long braid sliding across her shoulder to fall down the middle of her back. "Even if we did, the only crossing to my home was that old tree. Otherwise, the bridge where the road crosses the river is the closest and only crossing," she explained.

Thorin nodded understandingly.

The elf girl cocked her head slightly to the side. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, then you wouldn't feel the need to escort me all the way to Dale. You could go home to your family and let them know you're alright," he told her.

"True, but I wouldn't feel right just leaving you." A grin appeared on her face. "You would probably end up getting lost again if I left."

Thorin chuckled. "All I have to do is follow the river until I reach the path once again, right?" She nodded. "Right. So then I merely have to follow it to Dale. There is no conceivable way that I could get lost."

"Well, if I remember correctly, you told me that you were on the path going through the woods when you got lost," she added smartly.

The dwarf boy laughed. "I fell. That does not count."

"But, nevertheless, you still found yourself lost. What if you fell once again and became lost once more? You dwarves are not exactly known for your grace or surefootedness," she teased with a grin.

"True, but we have keen senses of direction," he told her.

"Ah. So then that explains why you were heading deeper into the woods once you became lost from the path," the brunette said smugly with a smirk.

"There were steep hills and sheer cliffs everywhere I turned. The woods practically led me right to you," he said defensively, the smile still on his face.

The elf girl laughed energetically. She was about to open her mouth to reply, but stopped. Her head snapped in the direction of the woods, her green eyes searching.

Thorin walked up to stand beside her. "What is it?" he asked, his eyes moving from the trees to the elf girl's face, searching for what had alarmed her.

She slowly shook her head. "I'm not sur-"

The brunette was cut off as something exploded through the bushes and right in front of them. They managed to leap out of the way just in time. Thorin was instantly on his feet, sword in hand. The elf girl was in a protective crouch, her bow at the ready with an arrow already notched into place.

Before them stood a massive bear. First wolves and now a bear. They were in for it now. Thorin couldn't help but think that the two of them had the worst sort of luck.

A/N: Here's another chapter. I would just like to ask any readers out there who know a lot about the world of Middle Earth to help me by telling me everything and anything they know about elf and dwarf culture. Like for example: what are their beliefs? If you can do that, it would be amazing and would really add to the quality of the story! Please give me reviews to let me know how you like the story so far and give me tips on how to improve as a writer. Thank you!


	8. A Turn for the Worse

4

The monstrous bear rose up before them, as much a beast as Thorin had ever seen. It must have been the size of a horse. Its entire body was bulky and corded in muscle. Bright brown fur gleamed in the light of the setting sun. White teeth bared and claws the length of daggers shined in the light. It roared at them, its breath fetid and raw.

The bear lunged at the elf girl, but she was too quick. She nimbly rolled out of the way. Righting herself, she drew back her bow and released the arrow. It whizzed through the air until it buried itself in the bear's shoulder. The creature roared in pain and rage as it charged at her. Once again, the elf girl barely managed to get out of the way in time.

Thorin leaped to his feet and went on the offensive. He arced his sword through the air and easily cut through the coat of the massive bear. He pulled his sword away from the bear, its blade lightly coated in red blood. The dwarf boy went to attack the bear with another strike, his sword raised and at the ready. Before he could, though, the bear whirled around, slamming its bulk into Thorin. The dwarf prince managed to dodge the majority of the attack but was still sent sprawling. He landed with a dull thud a few feet away.

The bear turned, preparing to finish Thorin off, but the elf girl was already moving. With blinding speed, the brunette drew back her bow and released an arrow. Before the arrow had even reached its intended target, another arrow was notched into place and released. Both projectiles raced through the air. One buried itself in the bear's meaty shoulders. The other landed not far away from the first arrow as it submerged itself in the bear's bicep.

The monstrous animal slowed, growling in pain, but did not stop its advance on Thorin. But that was all he needed. The elf girl had bought him much needed time to get to recover and get back on his feet. The dwarf prince, still a little stunned, climbed to his feet and darted out of the bear's reach right as it swept a paw at him. Thorin could feel blood pouring down his face from a gash on his forehead that he must have sustained in the fall. He ignored it and went to crouch beside the elf girl.

Both of them wore similar expressions of fear and determination, their features contorted in concentration. The bear was moving just a little slower now, dark streams of blood coloring its coat along with several arrows protruding from its hide. All this seemed to do was make the bear look more intimidating. All their attacks had seemed to do so far was slow the animal down, not stop it. At least it offered them a brief respite to catch their breaths.

"How many arrows do you have left?" Thorin asked his elven companion.

Her green eyes never strayed from the massive predator a short distance away from them. "Two."

Thorin sighed in response.

She nodded sideways towards his head. "How's your head?" she asked.

"I'll live," he replied tersely. "Is there any chance we can run?"

She shook her head vigorously. "It would catch us before we made it twenty feet. There isn't any hope of climbing a tree to get away from it either. It will grab us before we were able to climb high enough. Our only option is to fight," she told him with a determined tone.

Thorin nodded his understanding. Tearing his gaze away from the bear, he turned to look at the brunette. "I hate to ask this of you, but is there any chance at all that you can use whatever ability you used on the wolves the previous night on the bear?"

The elf girl bit her lower lip nervously. "I don't know. I actually had to make contact with the wolf for it to work before. I don't think that he," she nodded towards the bear," will let me get that close. And even if he does, there isn't a guarantee that he will simply let us go. With the wolves it was a territory issue. With him, he might actually be hungry," she told him quickly.

The dwarf prince returned his gaze to the bear which was slowly coming towards them. There was a noticeable limp to its step, but the bear seemed to pay no heed to any of its wounds. "Well, if worse comes to worse, you may have no choice but to try," he told her. He rose to his full height, bringing his blade up in a defensive stance.

The elf girl remained in her protective crouch. In one swift movement, she drew one of her last arrows from her quiver and notched it into place. She pulled back the drawstring and took her aim. The bear roared, loud and fierce. Out of sheer surprise, the elf girl released her arrow. It flew through the air and buried itself in the trunk of a tree just over the bear's right shoulder. The brunette was stunned by what she had just done. She had missed. She had just missed the perfect shot at the bear.

Thorin actually saw her hands shaking, her bow wavering in the air. She was momentarily stunned by her miss that she hadn't notched her next, and last, arrow into place like she usually did.

Then, all at once, the bear rushed them. It barreled towards them, making Thorin its primary target. The dwarf readied his blade. He could hear his heart beat in his ears, adrenaline pumping wilding through his veins. Suddenly, the predator changed direction at the last minute and shifted its attention to the brunette. Thorin quickly, none too gently, pushed her out of the way.

Finally snapping out of it, the brunette tucked and rolled, but she was too slow this time. The bear's razor sharp claws raked against her arm, eliciting a loud cry of pain from the elf girl. When she rolled back to her feet, she instantly fitting her bow with her final arrow and letting it loose. It didn't have to fly far before it slammed into the bear's midsection. The massive predator seemed to stagger slightly with the force of the blow. Uttering a low growl, the beast swung its head in her direction.

Swiftly, the elf girl sheathed her, now useless, bow over her shoulder next to her empty quiver. She reached into the confines of her boot and pulled out a hunting dagger. She held it at the ready, seeing as how it was her only line of defense now.

Thorin seized his opportunity as the bear shifted its attention to the brunette. With two easy strokes, he sliced cleanly through the predator's hide. But still, this didn't seem to stop the monstrous creature. It roared loud and clear, its voice carrying through the quickly darkening woods.

As the bear uttered its roar, Thorin took a brief moment to look past it to the elf girl. He took a brief note of her injured arm. The bear's claws had ripped through her cloak, tunic, and the skin beyond. Bright red blood now stained her dark green shirt and the spot was only growing larger. Cuts were on her face and hands, as they were probably on his, from repeatedly having to roll across the hard ground in order to dodge the bear's attempted attacks. There was probably to small amount of dirt across their faces and clothes as well.

To his surprise, he saw her, albeit shakily and with no measure of fear or courage, extend her hand slowly towards the beast. Was she going to attempt to use that ability she had displayed before?

The bear's head swung in her direction, sniffing, but the snarl never leaving its face. Thorin wondered if it was working. It seemed to be listening to her, to a certain extent.

Suddenly, the elf girl swiftly pulled back her hand as if she had been stung. Her green eyes were wide and filled with fear. She was instantly on her feet and attempted to jab at the best with her dagger. The bear seemed to anticipate her attack and ducked, bowing low to the ground as the blade cut through the air mere inches above his head. As the elf girl drew back her hand, the bear lunged, jaws gaping wide as it sought to ensnare her arm. Luckily, in this instance, the brunette moved faster than the predator and quickly moved out of its reach.

Growing rapidly frustrated, the bear let out a mighty roar. All of a sudden, it spun around to face Thorin and raised up on its hind legs, growling ferociously. The dwarf prince stumbled back, caught off guard by the suddenness of the bear's onslaught. The monstrous predator raised a massive paw above its head, poised to strike him down. Thorin froze. There was no way he could get out of the way in time.

Then, right as the beast's paw was about to strike, Thorin felt something slam into him, shoving him out of the way. He tumbled away, his sword flying loose from his hand. Quickly, the dwarf prince righted himself and looked back to see what had happened. He instantly paled.

The elf girl stood where he had been merely moments before, facing down the massive creature. She had pushed him out of the way and now he had looked back just in time to witness the bear complete its deadly attack. The paw came down and ripped across her midsection. She let out a loud yelp of pain. The force of the blow sent her spinning through the air where she smashed into the trunk of a tree with a loud crack. She fell to the ground like a rag doll and didn't move.

The bear released a triumphant roar and began to move towards her fallen body, determined to finish her off.

Faster than he knew he could move, Thorin launched to his feet, seized up his fallen sword, and charged their tormentor. When he was close, the bear turned to swat him away, but Thorin was prepared. He easily sidestepped and ducked under the attempted attack and kept going. With a quick decisive stab, the dwarf prince drove his blade deep into the belly of the beast. The bear let out a low moan and stumbled a little on its feet. Drawing out his blade, which was now stained red, Thorin raised it one last time and drove it through the top of the bear's neck. With a sickening wheeze, the bear slowly fell to its side and crashed to the ground, dead.

Hurriedly, Thorin pulled the sword from the fallen bear's neck, wiped it off on the long green grass, and sheathed it at his belt. Then, he took off at run towards the elf girl's limp body. When he reached her, he kneeled beside her and gently flipped her onto her back.

He was immediately met with a pair of green eyes. He smiled with relief, but froze when he saw her wound. The entire stomach area of her stomach was shredded and bloody. It was hard to look at, to be perfectly honest. Thorin returned his eyes to her own, trying to hide the horror of what he had just seen from his face.

"How bad is it?" she asked, her voice oddly quiet. Thorin hesitated. She smiled and the dwarf prince was startled to see blood coating her white teeth. "That bad, huh?" She started to laugh, but immediately was taken with a fit of coughing.

"Take it easy," Thorin told her gently. He did his best to put a smile on his face, trying to disguise the severity of her wound.

The elf girl took a few deep, steadying breaths until her coughs subsided. She visibly winced with every breath she took as her chest rose and fell, stirring her damaged midsection. The brunette tilted her head up, with Thorin supporting the back of her head, to look at her injury. She let out a few fearful gasps as her gaze fell upon her shredded stomach. She let her head fall back. "Alright. That's worse than I previously thought."

"It is nothing that cannot be healed," Thorin said in a comforting tone. Gingerly, he reached his arms underneath her, one beneath her knees and the other wrapping around her shoulders. As carefully as he could, he lifted her into the air and into his arms. She was much lighter than she looked.

The sudden movement jostled the elf girl's injury, eliciting a strangled whimper. "What are you doing?" she asked, confusion coloring her pained voice.

"I'm taking you to Dale. You need help and I'm no doctor." The dwarf boy turned and began to walk alongside the river, leaving the bloodied corpse of the bear behind them.

The elf girl uttered a choking laugh. "Look at me. I'm going to bleed out and die before we even get there," she told him with a sad smile.

Thorin continued his march upstream towards the city of Dale. He tried to make his strides quick and even, determined to keep up the speed without aggravating her injury further. "You will not die as long as my legs still move and I draw breath."


	9. Bloody Tears

4

Thorin walked for what seemed like hours, endlessly marching next to the river rapids, its roar an ever present background to the forest. Crickets and frogs joined together as they sang out a symphony of music over the dark forest. Bats flew silently through the starlit sky, their presence only revealed when they uttered a shrill call. The forest was enveloped in the darkness of night and was still.

The dwarf boy cast a worried look at the elf girl clutched protectively in his arms. She was frighteningly pale. All the blood in her body was slowly leaking from the severe wound in her abdomen. Thorin had stopped a moment ago and used her cloak to wrap around her injury in an attempt to slow the bleeding, but he wasn't sure how much good it would do.

She was also starting to have trouble keeping her eyes open. Thorin was concerned that if she closed her eyes, she wouldn't wake again. So, he focused on keeping her talking. He continued their questionnaire game from earlier that day. He did it not only to keep her awake, but also to keep her mind off of the pain. Sadly, it didn't always work. For now, at least, she seemed to not be crying out as much with every step he took. Thorin paused in his thoughts. Perhaps that was because she was slowly starting to lose feeling. Perhaps, she was starting to slip away from him.

The elf girl bit her lip to keep from crying. Thorin was actually genuinely impressed she hadn't shed a single tear over her injury. He had seen men brought to tears over less. Taking a steadying breath, the brunette's eyes shifted to find Thorin's own blue ones. "I believe it's-" She stopped as a shiver wracked her body. "Your turn," she finished.

"Are you cold?" he asked her, momentarily stopping his walk. His legs screamed at him to stop and rest. They were not used to the long treks across the wilderness and the repeated battles with wild animals and escaping from rivers. There had been not enough rest to recover. But he couldn't stop now. He needed to get her to a doctor, and soon.

The elf released a soft laugh. "I do believe your questions are becoming more dull, dwarf," she smiled, a grimace barely visible in the background of her expression.

Thorin sighed. "Just answer the question," he told her in a commanding voice.

The elf girl seemed momentarily taken aback by his tone but swiftly recovered. She nodded slightly. "A little," she answered honestly.

Carefully, the dwarf prince lowered her and gently set her upon the ground. Reaching up to his neck, he quickly began to undo the tie that secured it around his shoulders.

The girl looked at him in confusion. "What are you doing?" she asked.

Thorin finished untying it and, with a flourish, he whirled his fine cloak from around his shoulders and in front of him. He began to lay it over her small frame, but the elf girl pushed it away. "No. She told him firmly. You'll ruin your cloak," she told him firmly.

The boy looked at her incredulously, wondering if he had heard her correctly. "A life is more important than a cloak," he answered. He gently placed the warm fabric over her body, effectively covering her and hiding the image of the blood soaking through her own cloak. "If you still feel the same in the future, you may purchase me a new one."

He smiled at her and earned a grin in response. "I may just do that."

As he had done before, Thorin kneeled down and slipped his arms under her legs and around her shoulders. This time, though, the elf girl put her arm around the back of his neck and gripped his tunic in preparation for what was to follow. As gently as was possible, Thorin lifted the injured brunette off the ground and into his arms. This immediately elicited a loud yelp which quickly faded into a muffled whimper as she buried her head into his chest. Her hand took a wad of his tunic in her hands and squeezed it as hard as she could. Thorin couldn't see her face, but he had a feeling that she was hiding her face as tears streamed down her face, seeing as how he could feel his shirt dampening where her eyes were situated by the side of his chest. Choosing to honor her wish, Thorin paid no attention and continued walking.

After a few minutes, the elf girl seemed to regain her composure and lessened her grip on his tunic, but didn't remove her arm from around his neck. She kept her head resting upon his chest, but a moment later he felt her head shift to look at him. She watched him for several long minutes without saying anything. Thorin could almost feel her vivid green eyes upon him, but he pretended not to notice.

Finally she spoke up, her voice weak. "Won't you be cold?" the brunette asked.

Thorin smiled without looking at her. "Is that your question, elf?" he inquired teasingly.

The girl let out a breathy laugh, albeit softly. "Look at you. You turned the tables on me. Well done."

"Dwarves are witty and clever, you should know," he told her with a smile.

"You truly are a testament to the embodiment of your people's excellent qualities and skills," she said. Thorin laughed half-heartedly. The elf girl's face turned serious. "I mean, what I said. You really are a good person, dwarf. You have a strong heart."

Thorin was silent for a long moment before answering. "How could you possibly know that?" he asked rather quietly.

She probably would have shrugged if she could. Her green eyes were intense as they gazed upon his face. "I do not know how to explain it," she answered very simply. "I just…I just feel it." Her voice grew quiet and Thorin noticed that she was struggling to keep her eyes open. Her eyelids repeatedly drooped heavily, her long, dark eyelashes threatening to hide her vivid green eyes. More than once, the dwarf boy saw her eyes start to roll back into her head as she fought to remain conscious.

"Come on," he encouraged, his voice laced with a hint of desperation. If she closed her eyes, they may never open again. "Stay awake. It is your turn. Ask me a question." He could slowly feel the muscles in her body growing slack with exhaustion. He wasn't sure how much time she had left. She had already lost so much blood.

The elf continued to struggle to keep her eyes open. She licked her lips as she thought. Thorin kept his eyes on her as he walked and waited for her to speak. She head continued to rest upon his rest and her arm weakly wound around his neck. Her breathing was irregular, coming in ragged gasps. The brunette's face was a sickly pale, all the blood drained from her face.

"I have something," she said, her voice tired. "But it is more of a confession."

Thorin nodded. "Alright, I'm listening."

She was quiet for a few moments, staring at him as if to gauge whether she should continue or not. Finally, she took a deep, yet careful, breath. "My family lives out in the forest, as you know. I sometimes accompany my mother into Dale and my father to Mirkwood. But I never really spent any time with the children my age at either of those places. I always felt like I was an outcast. In Dale, I may be of the race of man, but I am still an elf in appearance. Even in Mirkwood, I was alone. I look like an elf but have the heart of a man, according to my father." She let out a breathy laugh, but was instantly taken with a fit of coughing. Thorin waited patiently for her to catch her breath and continue. "No matter where I was, the members of my family were the only ones I could even call my friends. Until now." She looked up at him with a small smile. The dark haired boy stared at her, a surprised expression on her face. "So, truth be told, you are my only friend."

The dwarf boy turned his gaze forward to the path ahead, a smile on his face. He let out a scoffing laugh.

The girl tilted her head back to look at him. "You find that funny?"

He shook his head. "No, no. It's just…" He stopped and turned to look at her, the gentle smile still on his face. "You are my only friend."

The brunette laughed lightly, wincing slightly as she did so. "Really?"

He nodded. "It is true." And he wasn't lying. Back in the Lonely Mountain, it was often difficult to tell who was his friend or who was just being friendly because they feared there would be consequences if they weren't. It was hard to determine friend from mere loyalty. His father, grandfather, and the rest of his relatives were the only ones who would be honest with him- to a certain extent. Soldiers risked their lives for him because of his station. This girl, though, risked her life to save and protect him not because he was a prince, but because he was a person. Because he was her friend. And he would do the same for her.

"We really are a pair. An elf and a dwarf." She laughed. "Though," she paused as a shiver wracked her body. The elf girl bit her lip to keep from crying out from the pain as it disturbed her wound. "You know, I feel bad that we consider each other to be friends, but we do not even know one another's name."

"I'll tell you what, after we reach Dale and you make a full recovery, we'll exchange names. Sound good?"

No response.

"Are you alright?"

Still no response.

Thorin looked down at the elf girl in his arms. Her eyes were closed and her body slackened. He tightened his grip around her around her shoulders. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her stir. "You need to stay awake."

"I'm…I'm trying. It's getting harder….I'm so tired," she answered, her voice barely a whisper.

"Don't worry. We are almost there," he told her.

Thorin could almost feel her smile. "How would you know? You've….never been there…before." Her voice was tired. Her mind was numbing and she was having trouble forming her sentences as quickly as she normally would.

"Dwarves have keen senses of direction, remember?"

He felt her smile broaden slightly. "Still sticking…with that story, huh?" she asked weakly.

"'Till my dying breath." Thorin flinched. "Sorry. That was a poor choice of words."

The elf girl smiled sadly. "It's alright. I have…no illusions about what my chances are." Her grip tightened on his tunic. Tears welled up in her eyes. She bit her lip to try to stop them, but it didn't work. The tears spilled down her cheeks as she choked back a sob. She buried her face into his chest as she attempted to hide the tears. Thorin tightened his grip around her, holding her close to him. "I…I don't want to die," she wept.

"You will not die. I won't allow it," he told her firmly.

"I do not think…it is within your power…to choose whether I live…or die." She smiled sadly at him. "No matter…how much…you would wish it were so."

"It may not be within my power to prevent it, but it is within my power to take you to someone who can. And that is what I plan on doing." Thorin looked down at his charge. Her eyes were closed with her head gently resting on his shirt. The dark haired boy tightened his grip around her, attempting to wake her. Her eyes didn't open. "Hey, you need to wake up." Still she didn't stir.

Taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart, Thorin quickened his pace towards Dale.


	10. The Storm Queen

4

Arinya wasn't sure when she fell asleep. Her entire body felt drained and exhausted from the constant pain of her wound. She had just drifted away, content as she listened to the dwarf boy's footsteps and lost herself in the steady swing of his movements as he walked. She wasn't mindful of how long her eyes were closed. She was only aware of the ever present darkness in her vision. The elf girl half-wondered to herself if she was dead.

Then, she saw a light. At first, it was nothing more than a tiny pinprick in an ocean of darkness. But it began to grow larger and larger, threatening to overpower the darkness. Slowly, Arinya began to realize that the light was coming towards her. She brought up her hands to shield her eyes from the blinding light as it neared her.

Suddenly, the light flared brightly and Arinya squeezed her eyes shut to protect them. When she opened them again, she realized she was no longer adrift in the darkness.

She was in a forest, unlike the one that surrounded her home. The trees soared high into the skies at breathtaking heights. Magnificent white stairways wrapped themselves around their trunks and disappeared into the canopy. It was autumn, the trees turning beautiful and wondrous shades of orange, yellow, and red. The fallen leaves covered the green grass like a second skin. Songbirds perched upon branches and bushes, singing sweet symphonies to all who cared to listen.

Arinya took a stunned step forward, staring at the wonder of the place in which she was, her footsteps crunching loudly on the fallen leaves. Was this the afterlife? Had she died from her wounds?

The sound of footsteps coming from behind the elf girl caused her to turn about. Immediately, she felt her breath taken away.

Before her stood a beautiful elf woman. Long, golden locks fell down about her like a gilded waterfall. A long white gown clung to her thin frame, giving her an almost ghostly appearance. The woman's face was pale and still, like a statue chiseled from the purest white marble. Hard blue eyes regarded her silently, their depths filled with limitless fathoms of knowledge and experience. Clearly this elf woman was much older than she appeared. Set lightly upon her head was a finely crafted tiara wrought of the best silver metal. Sitting upon one elegant finger was a brilliant ring that seemed to a sort of glow.

The woman held her hands clasped in front of her as she looked at Arinya. The elf girl couldn't help but feel uncomfortable under her gaze. It felt as if every secret, every memory she had, was now laid bare before her.

"Welcome, daughter of Leyandril." Her voice was slow and elegant, as if every word had a profound meaning behind it. When she spoke it was in elvish. Luckily, Arinya's father had schooled in her native language since she was very young. So she was able to very quickly grasp what the elf woman had said and form a reply in elvish in kind.

"How do you know me?" she asked.

The woman smiled softly, lessening the hard appearance of her face as her eyes lit up to accompany her expression. "I have known of you for many years now," she answered.

Arinya shifted on her feet, making the fallen leaves crunch loudly in protest. "Who are you?"

"I go by many names. The Storm Queen, Lady of Light, and the Lady of the Galadrim being foremost among them. Do you know me now?" she asked, the smile still on her face.

The brunette blinked in surprise. She had heard her father talk of this woman, of the elf witch who resided deep within the woods of Lothlorien. When she spoke her name, it was filled with recognition and respect. "You are Lady Galadriel," she stated with no small amount of awe and surprise. She inclined her head in esteem.

Galadriel's smile broadened ever so slightly.

"What would you ask of me that you sought to bring me here?" Arinya asked, knowing that the elf witch was behind her sudden entrance into this forested land. She could only assume that the autumn wood she was in was the forested region of Lothlorien.

"A power has awakened within you a mere day ago, is this correct?"

Arinya nodded. "Yes, my lady, but how did you come to know of this?"

"I have both foreseen and felt your power's awakening. It is substantial and continues to grow even now. If given enough time, it may prove harmful not just to you but to those around you as well," Galadriel told her in a somber tone.

The brunette girl tightened her hand into a fist at her side. "But, what is this power? I have never experienced it before. Why has it decided to awaken now?" she asked, barely containing her fear. She couldn't deny that this new power had haunted her thoughts of late. She had wondered what it meant and where it came from. Even how it would affect her life in the future. Now it seems she was finally going to get some answers to the questions that had been plaguing her mind.

"It is not written why magic chooses to awaken when it does. I cannot say why your power chose to awaken when it did," the majestic elf woman explained in her steadily smooth voice.

Arinya straightened as she looked at Galadriel. "You said magic. That is what I have? Magic?" Galadriel inclined her head slightly as if to nod. The elf girl let out a breath of air that she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "How did I come to possess magic?" she asked.

"This I cannot say for certain. Magic runs in some families bloodlines, unnoticed, until it surfaces in a particular generation and then becomes dormant once again. Magic is powerful, and it is also unpredictable."

"Unpredictable? Then how am I supposed to control it if it is continuing to grow as you say it is?" Arinya asked, folding her arms across her chest. Everything felt as if it was moving so fast. She was taking in so much information at once. She felt as if she needed to steady herself.

Breaking her statuesque pose, Galadriel walked a few steps closer to the elf girl. For the first time, Arinya noticed that the elven witch was walking barefoot. Her pale feet made barely any noise as they stepped onto the fallen leaves coating the forest floor, unlike Arinya who made loud crunching noises anytime she moved. Ever so gently, Galadriel extended a hand and set it lightly upon Arinya's shoulder. "You will come to Lothlorien. I will train you to control your powers so that they do not overwhelm you in the future," Galadriel told her, blue eyes looking directly into Arinya's own green ones.

"Come to Lothlorien? But what about my family? My home? I cannot simply leave all of that behind," the elf girl said, her voice filled with sadness and a type of pleading.

"You must. It cannot be avoided. You must come to Lothlorien before your power grows too strong and becomes out of control. For their safety and your own you must come," the elf witch said firmly.

"But…It's so far," Arinya said quietly. Her eyes darted down to looking at her boots. She watched as she nervously and incisively kicked at the dried leaves. She watched with only a mild amusement as they showered before her in a rain of yellows, oranges, and reds.

"To follow one path, you must give up all others." Arinya looked up at her in surprise. Galadriel had not said that out loud. The words had been spoken within her own mind. "But," the golden haired elf removed her hand from her shoulder, "the choice remains yours."

Arinya gazed at the witch for a long time, torn with indecision. She was silent for a long moment before she asked, "Will I ever return home and see my family?"

"That is up to you. Once you have had more training, you may go to see them any time you wish. They may travel to see you as well, if they so desire. It will be many years before you return. Are you prepared for that reality?" Galadriel asked.

Arinya was silent for another long moment. She had to go to Lothlorien, lest she risk harming someone with her inexperienced and uncontrolled use of magic. It had happened only once and Arinya had used it to save her life, in addition to the dwarf boy's, when they had been confronted with the wolves. She had even used it on the bear, but it hadn't worked the way she had wished. Galadriel had said her power was growing and that, if left unchecked, it could harm her or someone close to her. She never wanted that to happen. She had so few people in her life she was close to and she couldn't bear the thought of causing them any harm. Her father, mother, Arandil, and even the dwarf boy. All of them were dear to her. And if the only way she could help them and herself was to leave, then she would do it. She couldn't deny that she would miss them and her home, though.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Arinya looked the golden haired elf squarely in the eye. "I will do it. I will come to Lothlorien and begin my training," she said with as much strength as she could muster. "But, I'm not sure if I will make it there. At the moment, I have a grievous wound and may not even make it to a doctor in time," she told her.

Galadriel held up her hand. "Worry not. I will slow the wound's toll on your body and preserve it with enough time for you to reach a doctor."

Arinya inclined her head gratefully. "Thank you, my lady." She straightened and looked at the elf witch curiously. "How am I supposed to get back?"

Galadriel smiled. "You wait."


	11. Desperation

It was dawn of the next day when Thorin finally broke free of the forest and saw Dale in the distance. He had come upon the road where it crossed over the river merely an hour ago. He had hastily followed the road, still clutching the dying elf girl in his arms. Now, he had finally made it within sight of Dale. Redoubling his efforts, Thorin strode as quickly as his exhausted legs would allow towards the distant city.

As he walked, he risked a quick glance down at the limp elf girl. Her eyes were closed and her skin was impossibly pale. Her wound seemed to have slowed in its bleeding, but it still managed to start to soak through her cloak and onto his. Already, a small dark patch was visible on the fine cloak that he had used to cover her up in order to keep the elf girl warm. Where Thorin's hand came into contact with the skin of her arm through a tear in her shirt, it felt as if he were touching a block of ice. Her body wasn't able to maintain its normal temperature anymore. As Thorin looked down at her, he couldn't help but think that she looked as if she was merely sleeping- that if he simply tried to wake her, her eyes would open once again. But there was nothing. The only sign he had that she was still alive was the uneven rise and fall of her chest.

This girl was his friend and she was his. He would not let her die.

The dwarf prince glanced to his right as he walked. From where he was, he could clearly see the grand gates to the Lonely Mountain. He wondered if his father or grandfather had sent men to find him. Would they even know where to look?

Thorin felt a jolt as he remembered the two dwarven guards he had told to wait for him in Dale about three days ago. They had probably returned to the mountain and told them what had happened. They were probably being reprimanded for leaving their prince alone in the woods. Thorin would have to see to it that he took full accountability for his actions, so that they didn't have to, upon his return. But that would have to wait.

The dark haired boy turned his attention to the path before him and Dale sitting on the horizon. Right now, he had something more important to do.

It took Thorin a mere half hour to finally reach the gates of Dale. He proceeded through and found himself immediately thrust into the throng of people as they walked through the streets going through their morning routine. A few people stared at him as he passed. And why shouldn't they? They were both disheveled and dirty, not to mention their young age and the difference in race. They were probably wondering what a dwarf boy and an elven girl were doing together. Though, they could have been staring at all of the blood as well. The blood from the elf girl's wound was seeping through his cloak and even the gash she had on her arm was slowly trailed down its length until it dripped from her fingertips. Thorin had all but forgotten about the gash he had received on his forehead, the blood having long since dried in a long stream down the side of his face. His hands were also painted red from trying to stop the injured brunette's wound. They were nothing but red.

Thorin walked quickly down the streets, his blue eyes wild and frantic as he searched for a doctor. His arms and legs screamed at him to stop and rest, but he ignored them and pushed on.

He didn't have time to search the entire city. The elf girl didn't have the time. Pretty soon, Thorin was turning to people he passed on the street, pleading for help in finding a doctor. A few slowed to stare at him as if he had gone mad while others simply avoided eye contact and pretended they hadn't heard him. Frustrated and desperate, Thorin moved into a sort of bazaar area.

People roughly pushed past him, not noticing or not caring about the wounded elf girl in his arms. Throwing them angry scowls, Thorin moved over to a small stall being run by what appeared to be a father and son selling meats.

The father looked up upon their approach. He seemed ready to open his mouth and tell them some catchy phrase about buying quality meats from his store, but stopped when he saw the brunette in his arms.

"Please, sir. Can you show me where a doctor is?" he asked, his voice laced with anxiety.

The man wildly waved his hands through the air as if to ward off his question. "No, no, no. I cannot leave my stall unattended," he said hurriedly.

"Then let your son watch it while you show me where the doctor is," Thorin offered. He glanced behind him to a boy, seemingly no older than nine.

"No. He is too young. I cannot help you," he said, shooing him away with his hands. He quickly began to busy himself with his next customer.

"Please. At least, tell me where I can find a doctor," Thorin pleaded.

"No. I cannot help you," the man repeated. With that, he walked to the other side of his stall to begin selling his wares to another passing potential customer, completely ignoring the dwarf boy.

Thorin let out a frustrated sigh, not his first. His blue eyes scanned the crowded streets. He wasn't sure where to go. No one seemed to want to help them, but he had no idea why. Suddenly, the dwarf prince noticed a woman running flower stand down the street make eye contact with him. He saw her eyes shift to the elf in his arms and back up to Thorin, her expression a mix of surprise and fear. Immediately seizing his chance, Thorin pushed his way through the crowd until he stood before her.

The woman held her hands firmly on the wood of her stall, as if she removed them she would fall. Her eyes moved from the girl to Thorin and back again more than once, the surprise and worry never leaving her expression.

"Can you help us? She needs a doctor right away," he told her quickly.

"What happened?" the woman breathed, her tone soft. Her dark brown eyes were fixated upon the blood that was seeping through Thorin's cloak.

"Please, can you show me to a doctor?" he asked again, his tone commanding her gaze.

This seemed to snap her back into reality, as the woman visibly jerked out of her reverie. Her gaze looked at Thorin for a long moment. The dwarf prince wondered to himself if she recognized him. It was possible, but not entirely likely. No one in Dale had seen him before, so how could they recognize him?

Suddenly, the woman's hand flew to her back as she quickly began to undo the apron that was secured around her waist. She looked over her shoulder at a young woman who was organizing some of the bouquets. "Madeline. Watch the stall while I am gone," she told her.

Madeline, who must have been the woman's daughter, nodded in response. After that, she went right back to work.

Finishing untying her apron, the woman set it down on the flat wood surface of her stall. She walked around the side, moving past Thorin and his charge, and began to head into the crowd. "Follow me," she said. As if Thorin needed to be told.

The woman led him through a series of twisting streets, narrow alleys, and steep stairs. They walked among the crowds of Dale, the people simply going about their business and paying them no heed. As they walked, the woman said nothing to Thorin, content to walk in silence. He didn't mind.

About three days ago, Thorin had been begging his father and grandfather to let him come to Dale. He had wanted to see the outside world so badly, to see it up close. Now, he could care less. All he cared about now, was reaching a doctor in time.

Within a few minutes, the woman stopped in front of a small house with a dark awning over the front window. She turned and gestured for him to step inside.

Thorin walked up to the door and stopped. He turned and looked at her squarely in the eye. "Thank you for your help," he said gratefully. The woman merely nodded stiffly in response. Striding past her, Thorin bore the injured elf girl into the building.

The interior was simple- merely a few chairs around the rim of the room and a small counter against the far wall. A stairway to the left disappeared on its way up to the second floor. A dark curtain covered an archway into a back room, shielding it from wandering eyes. Standing behind the counter was a wizened old man, his face a deep series of lines and wrinkles. Faded blue eyes looked up from a book he had been reading upon Thorin's entrance. Two arthritic fingers reached up to brush away what remained of his gray hair. He straightened as he caught sight of the elf girl in his arms. Instantly, he rushed around the side of the counter until he stood before him, his eyes never leaving the elf girl.

"What happened?" he asked. His eyes moved from the bloodstain on Thorin's cloak to the dwarf boy's face and back again.

"A bear attack in the woods," he told him. "Can you help her?"

"I will have to see the extent of the wound first. Quickly. Bring her into the back room." The old doctor swiftly gestured for him to follow and Thorin complied. He led the way to the dark curtain behind the counter and stopped. He held the fabric out of the way and allowed the dark haired boy to enter.

The dwarf prince emerged into a single room. A wooden table was set in the middle of the room, clearly used for tending to patients. Against the left wall was another table with all manner of medical instruments, herbs, and medicines.

"Go ahead and set her on that table," the old man said, coming in behind the dwarf boy. He had released the curtain, letting it fall shut behind him.

Thorin nodded. With a few short steps, he walked up to the table. Then, as gently as he could, he set her down upon the wooden table. As he carefully pulled his arms out from under her, Thorin flinched when he saw fainted scratches in the table that were clearly made from fingernails. He looked up at the doctor, his gaze both questioning and worried.

The old man noticed his gaze and shrugged. "Some injuries are more severe than others," he said very simply. He turned his attention back to the brunette. Reaching forward, he slowly drew back Thorin's cloak. The prince visibly flinched when he saw how much blood had soaked through her cloak, which he had wrapped about the wound in order to contain some of the bleeding. Apparently it hadn't worked. Gingerly, the old doctor began to unwrap the once green forest cloak from the elf girl and then lift up what remained of her tunic until finally her wound was laid bare.

Thorin sucked in his breath quietly. The wound looked worse. Both fresh and dried blood coated the girl's shockingly pale skin. Deep welts were carved into her abdomen from the bear's claws. The skin around the wound was red and inflamed. The wound might be infected. As soon as the cloak was taken away, the gash began to flow red liquid once again.

Quickly, the old man grabbed a few spare cloths from the table behind him and pressed them into the wound to slow the bleeding. But there was so much blood. Thorin just stood there, watching, not entirely sure what to do.

"Boy!" the doctor yelled suddenly.

The dwarf boy's head shot up, thinking he was talking to him. He immediately wondered what he had done that would warrant such a reaction. He didn't have to wait long before he realized the old doctor had not been talking to him. A young boy, perhaps of the age of ten or eleven, ran through the curtain and into the room. He stopped in front of the old man, his face expectant as he waited for a command like a well-trained dog.

The man shifted his attention from the elf girl and looked at the boy, his face hard and serious. "Do you know the huntress Eretria?" he asked. The boy nodded vigorously. "Good. Do you know where she lives?" Once again, the boy nodded. "Excellent. I need you to send word immediately to her that we have her daughter here and she is in critical condition. Now, go." The boy spun on his heel and began to run through the curtain. "Oh! And boy!" A second later, his head poked back through the curtain. "Go and tell Padmine to come in, post haste. I need her help right away." With one last nod, the boy disappeared through the curtain and was gone. After he was gone, the old doctor turned back to the elf girl.

Thorin wanted to stay silent and let him work but he had to know- "Is she going to be alright?" he asked.

The man's head lifted to look at him, as if he had just remembered that Thorin was still there. "I do not know yet. It is too soon to tell," he answered, shaking his head. "You really should go and wait in the other room. Someone will be along to help you shortly."

Thorin wanted to fight to stay by her side, but knew it was not for the best. The doctor needed space and no distractions while he worked. The prince shook his head. "Do not worry about me. All you need worry about his aiding her," he said.

The doctor nodded. "I will do everything I can."

The dark haired boy's blue eyes shifted to the elf girl's face. He looked at her, trying to memorize everything about her as if it was the last time he would ever see her. Mentally, he shook his head. No. He shouldn't think like that. He would see her again. So, with one finally look at the elf girl, his only friend, Thorin walked through the curtain and out of the room.


	12. The Waiting

The time seemed to drag slowly by as Thorin sat in one of the chairs in the doctor's office. He had his face buried in his hands as he leaned forward with his elbows braced upon his knees. He had been sitting there for hours. It was midday already. Still, the doctor had not emerged from the back room. The dwarf was unsure of whether to take that as a good or bad sign.

While he had been waiting, a woman, who Thorin assumed was Padmine, walked in and immediately headed into the back room. She smiled at the boy as she passed, but he didn't return it. He knew she was only trying to be friendly, but it seemed difficult to smile- even a fake one- at a time such as this. Once she had gone into the back room, she did not emerge either.

Thorin had repeatedly tried to strain his ears to hear anything of what was happening in the other room, but to no avail. His hearing was not as keen as an elf's. Either they were speaking to low for him to hear or there was no discussion between them at all. So, in the silence of the doctor's office, Thorin waited and waited for some semblance of a sign that the elf girl would live.

Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind. What if she didn't make it? What if she died? If she did, she would have died saving Thorin from an injury that was meant for him. The prince lowered his hands from his face in realization and glanced towards the closed curtain. It should be him in there. He should have taken that blow from the bear, not her. If she died, it would be his fault. And he would never forgive himself.

As he had done before, the dark haired boy buried his face in his hands. He tried to redirect his thoughts to something else. Something like the fact that the doctor had apparently recognized the elf girl, seeing as he knew her mother's name and sent the boy to fetch her. It had been a couple of hours. They should have been here by now, even if they were on foot. Thorin half wondered what had happened, but quickly forced that growing thought from his mind as well. They would be here.

In the back of his mind, Thorin wondered what he would say to them. Their daughter was hurt and dying from a wound she had sustained by saving him. Not to mention the fact that the two of them had been missing for several days because of him. If Thorin had never asked to take the forest path to Dale or paid attention while he was walking, none of this would have ever happened. She would be perfectly fine right now and would have been at home with her family, where she belongs.

But, if none of that had ever happened, then they would never have met. They would never have become friends. No matter how much misfortune had befallen them throughout their little adventure, Thorin would never regret having met her.

The sound of footsteps and the rustle of fabric caused Thorin to draw his face out of his hands. He glanced towards the direction of the curtain just in time to see it shut. Standing just outside of it, was Padmine. She held a bowl of water under one arm and some cloth and bandages in the other. Her eyes locked on his as she came over to him. Setting the bowl carefully on a nearby end table, Padmine kneeled on the ground before Thorin. "We should probably clean up that gash on your head, don't you think?" she said as more of a statement of fact than a question.

The dwarf prince watched as she lightly dipped the cloth in the water and brought it up to his forehead. Despite himself, Thorin flinched as the water touched his head wound. The woman recoiled her hand, her expression concerned, and waited patiently for the pain to subside before she returned the cloth to his skin. Carefully, she began to use short, gently strokes to clear away the dried blood from the side of his face.

He was silent for a long moment, content to let her work. But before long, he couldn't stop himself from asking, "How is she?"

Thorin felt Padmine hesitate slightly before she continued to clear the blood away. Her light brown eyes found his own blue ones before returned back to looking at his wound. She sighed. "It is difficult to say. As you are probably aware, she lost an incredible amount of blood. It has left her weak and vulnerable to infection. So, for now, I'm sorry to say, it is hard to say whether she will pull through or not."

"Just tell me, honestly, what are her chances?" he asked, his eyes catching hers.

The woman didn't look at him or answer his question. She just continued to focus on gently cleaning the blood from Thorin's face.

The dwarf scoffed and nodded slightly, his eyes shifting to look straight ahead. "That bad, huh?"

"She will pull through. Elves are strong," she told him in a comforting tone.

"You do not have to tell me twice," Thorin answered quietly.

Finishing, Padmine set the wet, and now bloodied, cloth into the bowl to soak. As soon as it touched the water, Thorin saw tiny red tendrils bleed from the cloth and into the water, darkening it. She reached beside her and grabbed the roll of bandages. Carefully, she extended her hand up and began to wrap the white bandage around his head in order to cover up the gash on his forehead.

"You know, for the past day or so, dwarven soldiers have been marching through the city looking for a boy that went missing," she began. Her eyes flicked up to his. "Would you know anything about that?"

"I may," Thorin said slowly. So his family had sent soldiers to try and find him. The dwarf shifted his gaze to the woman kneeling before him. "Is that why so few people would help us even locate a doctor upon entering the city?"

Padmine shrugged. "It's not out of the realm of possibility. With soldiers as heavily armed as they were, people probably thought they were searching for an escaped convict. Perhaps that is why they didn't so readily help you," she suggested.

Heavily armed? Why were they heavily armed? Surely the soldiers who had escorted him had returned to tell King Thror that he had merely gotten lost in the woods. Thorin wondered to himself if his father had sent out the royal guard. That was entirely possible.

Thorin's thoughts changed to the woman at the flower stand- the one who had finally helped him. And she had been so quiet and stiff when helping him. Had she thought he was some sort of convict, as the rumors stated? But Thorin was only a boy. Though, it probably didn't help his case that he had a heavy sword belted at his waist. Besides, people ought to know that looks can be deceiving.

So what if he had been a convict? Why would she help him? That was when an idea popped into his head. "Padmine?" The woman looked up, mildly surprised that he knew her name but didn't say anything of it. "Were those dwarven soldiers offering a reward of some kind to whoever found this missing boy?" he asked.

She nodded. "As a matter of fact, they were." The woman finished tying the bandage around his head and let her hands fall into his lap. She cocked her head slightly to the side as she looked at him. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I think someone turned me in for the bounty," Thorin commented.

He looked past her, Padmine following his gaze, and standing in the doorway as if they had been there all along was a small group of dwarven soldiers. They were all heavily armed, just as Padmine had said they were. The foremost among them, clearly a captain, stepped forward and inclined his head. "My lord Thorin. We are so glad we have finally found you," he said.

At that, Padmine froze. She turned around and looked at him, as if she was seeing him for the first time. Her eyes widened. She quickly stood and moved away from him as if she had been stung. Thorin just watched her, a gentle expression on his face as his eyes followed her with a kind of deep sadness and understanding. He expected that kind of a reaction. I mean, how many times do you treat the Prince Under the Mountain without knowing it. She was probably going through their conversation in her mind, trying to recall if she had said something untoward. Her eyes avoided his as she hurriedly gathered up her supplies and swiftly hurried from the room. Thorin's eyes looked down his hands clasped in his lap, his fingers twisting his large silver ring around and around in an obvious nervous habit. That was exactly how he had worried the elf girl would treat him upon finding out who he really was.

His blue eyes shifted back to the dwarven captain, who was waiting for a reply from his prince. Thorin leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. "I am sure you are," he answered bluntly. "And how did you find me?"

"A woman reported seeing you enter here," he told him.

"Ah, I see. Well, I assume you paid her then?" the dwarf boy asked.

"Umm…" the captain hesitated, apparently caught slightly off guard. "Yes, my lord."

"Good. Hate to see all that hard work she did for locating me go to waste," he commented. He leaned his head back so that it rested securely against the wall.

"My prince, are you injured?" the captain inquired, clearly worried by the bandage on his head. Not to mention his torn clothing, the dirt covering the majority of his body, and the series of cuts and bruises all over.

Thorin waved it off. "It is nothing that will not heal," he answered very simply.

The dark haired boy could almost feel the sigh of relief from the captain. He saw his shoulders relax slightly as he took a step towards him. "My lord, we must take you back to the mountain. The King will wish to know that you are alright," he told him.

"Then you can return and tell him. I'm not going anywhere."

"But, the King-"

"The King can wait. Right now, I need to stay here."

A few of the soldiers shifted on their feet uncomfortably, their armor clinking and grinding as they did so. The captain took another step towards the dwarf boy. "May I be so bold as to ask why you must stay?" he asked cautiously.

Thorin nodded in the direction of the closed curtain. "I have a friend in there who is badly injured. She was hurt helping me. I owe her my life and I will not move until I know she will be alright," he said firmly.

"I see, sire. Why don't you let us escort you back to the mountain, and we will request that the physician send word about your friend's progress. Do you find that suitable?" he asked.

Thorin sighed. He knew these soldiers were only doing their duty, but that didn't change the fact that he felt he needed to stay here. He was worried about what might happen if he left her. But, Thorin knew very well that the orders that the soldiers had received specifically told them to bring him back to the mountain. It didn't say whether it had to be voluntary or not. So, even though he would much rather stay, the prince knew he had to go with them. They would clearly not leave without him and couldn't return without him or risk being reprimanded. He didn't wish for them to be punished because he refused to leave.

Thorin reached up a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. "Alright," he said after a moment. "I will return with you. But you must ensure that I receive updates on her condition."

"It will be done, my lord," the captain said, formally inclining his head.

With one last sigh, Thorin rose from his chair. He glanced over at the curtain as if he expected the doctor to come out that second to tell him she would make a full recovery. But he didn't. Not even Padmine was within sight anymore, having rushed quickly from the room. There was no way for him to tell what the elf girl's fate was. So, for now, the only thing he could do was to return to the mountain and put his family's mind at ease while he waited for word on her condition.

And so, with one final look, Thorin followed the captain out of the door and into the street to be escorted back home.

A/N: Hello to all the readers! I would just like to ask to make sure that you think Thorin is somewhat in character. I was kind of worried about how to portray him as a kid and I would like to know if I did a good or bad job with it. If you think he is out of character, feel free to let me know and I'll make changes for later. But, if you do feel he is out of character, my defense would be that he is still young and hasn't experienced all the things that make him the Thorin that he is during the Hobbit (such as Smaug taking over Erebor).

So, in the end, PLEASE give me some reviews! The more I get, the faster I write!


	13. Lost and Found

The steady throbbing sensation was the first thing that Arinya noticed. It emanated from her head, arm, back, and stomach. It wasn't pain that she felt. It was more like the memory of it- pain so vivid and excruciating that it seemed to leave an imprint of where it had been.

The elf girl blinked, her dark lashes batting over her green eyes. When her eyes focused, her expression became confused. Where was she? Her head rolled weakly onto its side as she tried to look around. Clearly she had not recovered her strength, but at least she was still alive and the pain of her wounds was gone, for now. Arinya tried to prop herself up on an elbow, but instantly stopped as pain ratcheted through her body. With a muffled gasp of pain, the brunette laid back down. Evidently, her wounds hadn't quite finished causing her agony.

So, from where she could, Arinya's green eyes darted around the room, trying to take in every detail. She was lying on some sort of wooden table. A blanket had been placed over her and a pillow tucked gently under her head. Carefully, the elf girl reached under the blanket to feel her abdomen. Her fingers instantly met the soft touch of a clean bandage around her midsection. Shifting her attention to her arm, Arinya noticed that it was bandaged as well. After looking around the room some more, the brunette noticed a table against the far wall that was covered in medical instruments, bandages, cloth, medicines, and herbs. She must be in the care of a doctor. Then the dwarf boy had actually done it. He had successfully brought them to the doctor.

Arinya moved her head so that she was looking at the ceiling. Tears began to pour from the corner of her eyes and fall down her cheeks. She was alive. She was actually alive. She had started to give up hope.

A sudden realization dawned on her. Where was the dwarf boy? He wasn't in the room with her. After looking around the room a little more, she noticed a closed curtain leading to the rest of the house. Could he be through there? The last thing she remembered was the dwarf boy carrying her through the dark forest. She remembered the angry gash he had on his head and immediately felt worried. Could he have been hurt worse than she had thought? What if he was in bed similar to her? She had to go and check to make sure he was alright.

As she had done before, Arinya began to prop herself up on her elbows. She bit her lip against the pain to prevent herself from crying out. She had done this so many times already that she was beginning to draw blood. Carefully, she raised herself into a sitting position. The brunette took a few steadying breaths, the wound having sapped most of her energy. As slowly and gingerly as she could, Arinya moved her legs to the side so that they now hung off the side of the table. As delicately as she could manage, the elf girl lowered herself to the ground

Instantly, pain ripped through her entire body, setting a fire in her veins. Arinya staggered back, her hand flying to clutch her stomach. Her back hit the side of the table with a loud smack. The brunette took deep breaths, trying to calm the racing of her heart and breathe through the pain.

Suddenly, the curtain to her room flew aside. Arinya turned her head to see an old man enter, her parents and brother close on his heels.

"What are you doing?" the old man, who Arinya quickly identified to be the doctor, exclaimed. He swiftly moved to her side, Arandil with him, and they carefully lifted her back onto the table's surface.

Arinya's father and mother came around the side of them. Her mother was the first to speak. "Where did you think you were off to?" she asked, her voice both stern and concerned.

"Where is he?" Arinya asked, an edge to her voice as she looked from face to face. Arandil gently pushed her down until her head landed on the pillow. The doctor then proceeded to draw the blanket over her frail body. Once he had finished, he shuffled from the room and was gone.

Eretria shook her head, obviously not understanding what she was asking. "Where is who?" She reached a hand over and began to gently stroke her hair. Her father stood just behind her, his elegant blond eyebrows furrowed in concern as he looked down at his daughter, his hand resting comfortingly on his wife's shoulder.

Arinya's head cocked slightly to the side will it sat on the pillow. "What do you mean? The dwarf boy. The one who brought me here," she said, her voice showing her increasing worry.

Her parents exchanged a look before returning to her. "The doctor told us about the boy who brought you. He said that he stayed for a few hours, but left once his wounds were tended to. He must have returned to the mountain," Leyandril said.

"He left?" she breathed. The brunette felt her heart drop. He had left? He must have wanted to return to let his family know he was alive and well. Maybe he would come back once he finished. If his family would let him, like the boy had said many times. What if they didn't let him come back? What if she never saw him again? She owed him her life. She wanted to thank him, but he needed to come back in order for her to do so.

Arandil interrupted her thoughts. "Enough about this dwarf boy," he said, waving his hand as if to clear the air of something foul. A pale hand extended down until it wrapped around her hand, lying limply at her side. It was only when his hand touched her skin that Arinya realized just how cold she was. His blue eyes regarded her softly. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

A smile broke out across Arinya's face as she looked up at her older brother. "I am fine, Arandil. I am alive, after all."

"Are you in any pain?" he asked, appearing as if he was trying to clarify his previous question to get the answer he wanted.

"A little. It hurts only when I move, though. It is definitely not as severe as it was previously," she replied. The smile remained on her face. Her head moved on her pillow as she looked at her parents, the smile fading a little. "How long must I stay here?"

"A week at the most. Just long enough for your wound to start to heal. Then we will come and take you home," her father replied gently, his hand tightening on Eretria's shoulder.

A week? Arinya didn't want to stay there for a week, in an unfamiliar place by herself. She wanted to be home, in her own bed, surrounded by the people she knew and loved.

Her mother seemed to anticipate her thoughts. "I know it's a long time, but we will be in here every day to see you," she said in a comforting tone.

"Every day? That is a long time," Arandil smirked.

Arinya laughed, but instantly stopped as the movement jarred her stomach. Her hand flew to her stomach, pain ratcheting through her body. The elf girl still kept the smile on her face, not without a little effort, as she tried to hide the grimace. "Do not make me laugh. It hurts," she groaned.

"Sorry," her brother said. His voice was half apologetic, half mischievous in a way that only a brother could do.

The elf girl rolled her green eyes at her older brother.

"I will go see if we can move you to one of the beds now," Leyandril said. With a comforting squeeze of her mother's shoulder, Arinya's father walked through the curtain and was gone.

Eretria watched her husband leave before returning her attention to Arinya, her hand still stroking her long brown hair. As she did so, Eretria hummed a soothing tune. Arinya instantly recognized it. It had been the same song she had been humming right before the dwarf boy had found her in the woods.

After about a minute or so, Leyandril returned into the room and walked over to Arinya's side. "The doctor said we can move you." Arinya nodded her understanding. He pulled back the blanket, eliciting a small shiver from Arinya. Carefully, her father slipped his arms under her knees and around her shoulders. His green eyes found her own. "Ready?" Once again, Arinya nodded as she prepared herself.

Then, as gently as he could, Leyandril lifted his daughter off of the table and into his arms. The doctor must have given her some sort of medicine or herb because it didn't hurt as much as she though it would have- not like when the dwarf boy had.

Her father bore her from the room, her mother and brother close behind. He carried her through the curtain and into the waiting area. He took a right and went behind the desk, following the wall to a doorway on the far side. When he reached it, Leyandril turned into the doorway and proceeded up a set of steep stairs.

Upon reaching the top of the stairs, they emerged into a large open room. Rows of beds lined the walls, only curtains separating each of them. Leyandril moved towards one of the beds that was the farthest from them. He walked into the curtained off area, moved over to the bed, and gingerly laid Arinya down upon it. All the bed consisted of was a worn cot. There wasn't even a pillow or a blanket. Eretria quickly remedied that. She moved over to the nightstand beside the bed, opened one of the drawers, and pulled out a large cotton blanket. After opening another drawer, she drew out a pillow. With each of the new items in hand, Eretria came over to Arinya's bedside. She tucked the pillow gently under her head and laid the blanket over her body.

When she had finished, Arinya's mother knelt down beside her bed, taking her hand as she looked squarely into her eyes. "Is there anything else you need?" she asked.

The brunette smiled lightly. "I'm fine, mother. Really."

Eretria nodded. "If you think of anything you need, do not hesitate to ask." She stood, glancing over her shoulder at her husband for a brief moment before looking back.

"We should probably let you get some sleep," Leyandril said. He looked at Eretria. "I will stay here for the night. You and Arandil can go home." Eretria was about to protest, but stopped as her husband raised his hand to silence her. "You need your rest. You can always come back tomorrow," he told her gently.

Arinya's mother was silent for a long moment, her gaze shifting from Leyandril to her daughter and back again more than once. After an extensive time of hesitation, Eretria finally nodded. Bending over Arinya, she pecked her daughter on the forehead and straightened back up. "We will be back tomorrow," she said.

After exchanging goodbyes to one another, Arinya's mother and brother left to return home. Her father took a seat in a nearby chair, keeping a vigilant watch over his daughter. Exhaustion suddenly sweeping over her like a wave, Arinya closed her eyes and was asleep in seconds.


	14. Crime and Punishment

Thorin walked down the long hall towards his room. He just finished an extensive talk with his father and grandfather. Both were happy to see that he was alive and well, but that didn't last long. For at least an hour they furiously told him how reckless and irresponsible he was. Thorin had simply stood there and accepted what they were saying. He knew it was his fault that he had gotten lost. He was the one who had proposed the detour through the forest in the first place. Not to mention the fact that if he had been paying attention while he walked, he wouldn't have fallen from the path. To his relief, the dwarven soldiers that had escorted him were not being punished for leaving him in the woods alone. Luckily, they understood that those soldiers had been following his orders and had no choice but to obey.

As he had guessed, Thorin's punishment was to be confined to the mountain until further notice. He understood the punishment, but couldn't stop himself from arguing. Thorin tried to tell them about the elf girl who had helped him and saved his life, how she was injured and staying in Dale right then. He made sure to convey how deeply he wanted to return, to make sure she was alright and thank her. But his words had fallen on deaf ears. Both his father and grandfather were in such a rage that they would not listen to his pleas. At the very least, they said they would allow him to receive updates on the girl's condition. So, not wanting to push his luck, Thorin took his chance and left to begin heading to his room.

As he made his way down the hall, Thorin looked up just in time to see his mother round the corner up head and begin coming towards him. Her face lit up as she caught sight of her eldest son, relief flooding her features. She picked up the front of her elegant dress as she quickened her strides. She couldn't move very fast, though, for she was heavy with child. It could be any day now, according to the doctor.

When she reached him, she threw her arms around Thorin, holding him close to her. After a moment, she pulled away from him, a small smile on her face. "It is good to see that you are alright," she said. Thorin noticed her blue eyes stray over the bandage across his forehead, to the bruises and scrapes on his arms, to the dirt on his tattered clothes, and finally to the patch of blood on his midsection from carrying the bleeding elf girl to Dale. Her eyes looked back up to her son's face. "You are alright, are you not?"

"I am well, mother. Just tired, is all," Thorin answered with a gentle smile.

His mother's eyes looked him up and down once more. "And filthy, as well," she added dryly.

The dwarf prince laughed lightly. "Three days in the wilderness will do that to you." Thorin watched as his mother brushed off her dress, clearly worried that some of the dirt transferred to her during their embrace. When she had finished, her gaze returned to her son. Thorin nodded towards her. "How is the baby?"

"Healthy. It keeps kicking. Frerin thinks it is a boy." The dwarf woman let her hand rest on her pregnant belly affectionately.

"And what do you think?" he asked.

Thorin's mother smiled. "I believe it is a girl," she replied.

"Well, we will find out soon, won't we?"

The dwarf woman nodded in agreement. "That we will. Now, I won't keep you. You must have been heading to your chambers to clean up, is that correct?" Thorin nodded. His mother brought up her hands in a shooing gesture. "Then, go. Do it as soon as possible."

Thorin laughed. "Yes, mother." He inclined his head in a respectful goodbye and walked past her down the hall.

It only took him minutes to reach the door to his quarters. Putting his hands on the two large, wooden double doors, Thorin pushed inward and entered his room. The interior consisted of a large bed pushed against the wall to Thorin's right, a nightstand on either side and a dresser against the wall next to the door. A fireplace was situated on the left wall, a fire already lit and warming the room. Two chairs sat before the fireplace, the red fabric of the seats tinted orange in the light of the fire. A decorative rug lay in between the bed and the fireplace, covering much of the stone floor. Against the far wall was a magnificently crafted wood desk. A small window was situated above the desk, the glass opened as it let the light breeze into the room, rustling the curtains. Elaborate tapestries and mounted weapons decorated the stone walls.

Thorin moved into the room, shutting the doors securely behind him. The prince walked into the room, glancing about. Everything was just as he had left it the morning he had left for Dale. He moved to his right and stood before his wardrobe. He opened the doors and began to rifle through his clothes. He pulled out a fine red tunic, a long black coat, and dark cotton pants. As he drew each item out, the dwarf prince threw it onto the bed behind him. He finished by grabbing a pair of fine black hide boots and setting them beside the foot of the bed.

Gathering up his newly chosen clothes, the dwarf prince moved over to the far corner of the room where there was a curtained off area with a bathtub. His father must have had some of their servants prepare the bath for him while they were busy chastising him because the tub was filled with warm water.

Thorin set his clothes on the floor and began to kick off his boots. He was definitely going to need to have them cleaned, seeing as how they were caked with mud. After upon closer inspection, and seeing an array of tears in the fabric, Thorin wondered if it would just be simpler to throw them away.

Quickly, the dwarf boy stripped and climbed into the warm bath before it could cool any further than it already had. He scrubbed his skin, watching as all the dried blood and dirt washed off his body. Within a few minutes, he finished and climbed out. He hastily dried himself with a nearby towel.

Upon finishing, he tossed the towel over the curtained room divider. Reaching down, Thorin grabbed the clean clothes and began to put them on, one by one. When he had finished, he picked up his discarded clothes that he had previously wore and walked back out into the rest of his room. As he walked, he wondered if there would be any point in saving these clothes. The same as his boots, the clothes were dirtied and shredded. Maybe with some sewing and a good wash, they could be saved.

He walked up to his bedside and set the clothes onto it. Thorin couldn't seem to take his eyes off of the tunic, though- still stained with the elf girl's blood. He felt his mind wandering, wondering how she was or if she was still even alive. Images flashed through his mind of the elf girl, her pale face and shredded and bloodied stomach as he held her in his arms. The doctor didn't seem to know whether or not she would make it. Thorin began to wonder if she had actually died after he had left, and he hadn't been there.

Thorin sat down on his bed and buried his face in his hands. What if she had died? She would have died saving his life. He wasn't sure he could live with himself if she died.

A knock at his door snapped the dwarf boy out of his dark reverie. He drew his face back, letting his hands rest on his legs. "Come in," he called.

A moment later, one of the large wooden doors swung open to admit Thorin's nine year old brother, Frerin. The young boy had a short crop of unruly black hair, much like Thorin. Unlike Thorin, though, Frerin had brown eyes, like their mother. The boy curiously poked his head into the room. Once his eyes fell upon his elder brother, Frerin entered the rest of the way and came over to the bed to stand before Thorin, an innocent smile on his youthful face.

"I heard that you finally came back," he said, his voice eager.

Thorin chuckled softly and straightened slightly in his seat upon the bed. "That I have."

"And? What happened? Did anything exciting happen?" Frerin asked, trying to encourage more details from his brother.

"Oh, yes. There were wolves, bears, elves, magic, and lots of other things that you would like," the elder boy answered.

Frerin crossed his arms across his chest and arched an eyebrow, obviously not believing him. "That's not funny. That did not really happen," he said.

"It did. I am lying to you, Frerin. I swear it," Thorin assured him, his tone serious. His younger brother just stood there, trying to figure out if he was making fun of him or actually telling the truth. Thorin patted the fabric of the bed beside him. "Come here." Frerin slowly came over and took a seat beside him, his young face looking up to him expectantly. "I will tell you the entire story, if you wish to hear it."

Frerin nodded. "I would, but I feel I must ask: how did the scolding from father and grandfather go?"

Thorin shrugged. "I was scolded and punished, as I assumed I would be. I cannot leave the mountain again for the foreseeable future, according to them." The older boy playfully bumped his shoulder against his brother's, a small smile on his face. "It seems as if you will be stuck with me for a while longer."

"That sounds great," Frerin said, his voice mildly sarcastic. He looked up to Thorin and used him as a role model. He would follow him around the mountain, taking notes on his every move as he tried to mimic him. Even the way he dressed was similar to Thorin. Frerin had even recently asked Thorin to teach him how to sword fight, wanting to become as skilled as his big brother. The older boy had told him that he could always learn from the guards and instructors, the same as he was, but Frerin refused. He only wanted to learn from him. To be perfectly honest, Thorin loved having his little brother look up to him in such a way. He looked after him, and soon he would have a new sister or brother to look after as well.

Frerin smiled eagerly. "So tell me about what happened the three days you were gone," he encouraged, his face expectant.

Thorin chuckled. "Well, I suppose it all started when I fell from the path and met an elf girl in the woods…"


	15. Recounted Tales

It had been several weeks since Arinya had finally gotten leave to go home and recover from her wounds. She had hated staying in the doctor's office. Her family would come to see her every day and took turns staying through the night with her so that she wouldn't be alone. That didn't change the fact that she felt trapped there, confined to bed rest. She was beyond happy when the day came that she could finally return home. She was still confined to bed rest for the first few days, but at least Arinya was somewhere familiar.

Arinya lay in her bed, on top of the neatly made covers. Her hands were folded behind her head, lost in thought. Her wounds were mending quickly and were hindering her movement less and less with each passing day. Currently, she could walk normally, but even a quick pace was out of the question. Her mother took her to the doctor at the end of each week, just to check on the progress of her healing. So far, so good.

As she thought about it more, the elf girl began to wonder if it had been Galadriel's doing. The elf witch had told her that she would slow her bleeding in time for her to reach a doctor. It wouldn't be out of the question to assume that somehow the elf woman was aiding in the healing of her wounds.

That thought only brought on another. The dream or vision or whatever it was that Arinya had when she fell unconscious and met Galadriel. It perplexed her greatly. When she was experiencing it, it felt so real and vivid. Even when she awoke, she was positive that it wasn't a dream. But now, after weeks and no other contact from the elf witch, Arinya began to doubt herself. Maybe it was only a dream. Surely, if it had been real, Galadriel would have sent for her by now. After all, she had told Arinya to come to Lothlorien to begin her training, which the brunette still couldn't seem to wrap her mind around. When she didn't come in the last few weeks, wouldn't Galadriel have contacted her again? Apparently not, for there had been no word.

Perhaps it was for the best. Arinya wasn't entirely sure how to explain her encounter with Galadriel with her family, let alone that she had magic. So, for now, she hadn't said anything to them. She had been trying to find the right way and moment to ask them. For the moment, it hadn't presented itself. Now, Arinya was starting to feel glad she hadn't, considering it was all probably a very strange dream.

Concluding her train of thought was the dwarf boy. Arinya must admit that she had hoped that he would return while she was staying in Dale. She had waited and wished for him to come and visit her, but he hadn't. At first, the elf girl thought that perhaps he was confined to the mountain as his punishment. But then doubt began to cloud her thoughts. What if he didn't want anything more to do with her? He was a dwarf and she was an elf. It wasn't exactly the ideal friendship. Maybe when she had confessed to him that he was her only friend, he had only said the same back out of pity and not wishing to hurt her feelings. The brunette began to feel utterly foolish for thinking that he thought of her as a friend. But there was a small part of her that desperately wished for the dwarf boy to miraculously find her and prove her wrong. So far, though, he had not.

A knock on Arinya's door brought her out of her reverie. Still having to be careful of her mending wound, Arinya ginger sat up into a sitting position. She let her legs fall over the side of the bed, her bare feet touching the cool wooden floor of the cottage home. "Come in," she called.

A second later, Arandil entered, his bow and quiver strung across his back. He let the door swing open and leaned against the door frame. He crossed his arms over his chest as he looked at his sister. "I thought you might enjoy a walk; get some air," the blond elf said.

"I would like that," Arinya smiled. She reached down and began to pull on her brown boots. The brunette nodded to her brother. "Why are you bringing your bow?" she inquired.

Arandil shrugged. "It pays to be cautious. Have you learned nothing from mother? Besides, you managed to have a run in with a wolf pack and a bear in a matter of days. I do not think that these woods are as safe as they used to be," he said very matter-of-factly.

The elf girl nodded her understanding. "I see what you mean." She finished lacing up her boots and stood, looking to her elder brother with a slight smile on her face. "Shall we?"

Arandil gestured formally through the doorway for her to go ahead of him. "We shall."

Arinya and her brother walked side by side through the woods surrounding their home. Currently, they were walking beside the river that all too recently plunged Arinya into a harrowing journey to reach civilization once again. As they walked, the brother and sister duo exchanged jokes and poked fun at one another as they recalled memories of events that had long since passed.

Finally, Arandil asked the question that Arinya had a feeling he'd been wanting to ask for the past few weeks. "So who was this dwarf boy that you kept mentioning when you were recounting to us what had happened during the three days you had become lost?"

Arinya shrugged and kept looking straight ahead. "I have told you all I know about him." Except the personal information that she gleaned from him during their questionnaire game. That seemed to private to share with her family without permission. It wasn't her place.

"But you didn't even say his name," Arandil said, his voice exasperated.

"That is because I do not know it," she answered very simply.

Her brother looked as if she was mad. "You traveled with this boy for three days and you do not even know his name?"

Once again, Arinya shrugged. "It never came up."

"You did not think to ask?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I do not know." Arinya was starting to get irritated by her brother's pestering. She looked at him sideways as they walked, an eyebrow raising questioningly. "Why are you so determined to know?"

Arandil averted his eyes from his younger sister and focused on the path ahead. "Because…" He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Because…?" Arinya encouraged.

"Because I wanted to thank him," he said rather bashfully. Arandil wasn't the best at expressing his emotions when it came to caring about others. He would laugh and joke, but the closest you could get was a pat on the head or brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face, as he tended to do with Arinya.

To not make him feel any more uncomfortable than he already was, Arinya looked away to hide the small smile that crossed her face.

"It is just that…you know…he saved your life. He killed that bear and then carried you all the way to Dale. According to the doctor, he had even been in the waiting area for hours, waiting to see if you were alright."

Arinya's nodded. "I remember. Father told me the first time I woke up," she answered, her voice far away as she recalled the memory.

Arandil laughed. "You were all prepared to get out of bed, injured or not, and go find him."

"I was worried he was hurt. He was bleeding, too, you know," she answered defensively.

Her elder brother put up his hands in surrender. "I meant nothing by it, Arin," he said, using his nickname for her. To be perfectly honest, she preferred it more than her full name. Arandil put down his hands to his side, a mischievous smile on his face. "I was merely going to say how funny it was to see the look on your face when we caught you trying to sneak out of bed. It was like a child getting caught stealing a treat that they weren't supposed to have."

Arinya crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not sure I wish to walk with you if you're going to be like this." She turned on her heel and began to head back in the direction of their house.

She heard Arandil sigh before his footsteps rushed to catch up with her. Changing the subject, the two siblings walked side by side as they had before, talking quietly to themselves.

After a little while of walking, the duo came within sight of their house. The two stopped short. Gathered in front of their house, were at least ten well-armed elven hunters. But these elves were not from Mirkwood. They did not bear the same armor. At their forefront was a tall, long-haired blond elf, clad in magnificent golden armor and a fine cloak. An elegant sword was belted to his waist, in addition to the bow and quiver across his back. He stood outside Arinya and Arandil's family home, conversing with Leyandril and Eretria. Their parents seemed to be upset with whatever the lead elf was saying.

Arandil positioned himself slightly in front of Arinya as they walked over to their home. As they walked over to the house, they could hear their father saying things such as "I have no idea what you are talking about" and "You will not have her." The other man would simply listen to Leyandril, only inserting a word here or there to refute his argument.

Once they got close enough, the group took notice as all eyes fell on them. But not the both of them. It was Arinya in particular. The lead elf took a step forward and came over to stand before the elf girl. He placed a hand on his chest and inclined his head slightly in a manner of a respectful greeting. Arinya blushed with embarrassment. No one had ever bowed to her before. Straightening to his full height, the male elf said, "I am Haldir, marchwarden of Lothlorien. I have come to bring you before Lady Galadriel."

A/N: Please review to let me know what you think of the story and if you like the direction that it is heading in! I would really like to hear your opinions!


	16. The Fated Decision

Arinya froze, her green eyes wide as she stared at Haldir in shock. So she hadn't been dreaming about her meet with Galadriel after all. It had really happened. And now, she had sent for her. The elf girl was speechless as she stared at Haldir, her lips slightly parted in surprise.

Her father was the first to step forward. "Like I have said many times already, you will not be taking her anywhere until you tell us why the Lady of the Galadhrim wishes to meet with my daughter," Leyandril declared firmly. He came over and placed himself between his daughter and the marchwarden.

"My business is with your daughter, and your daughter only," Haldir responded. "So has already agreed to meet with the Lady."

Leyandril turned around took look at Arinya, obviously surprised. Her mother came to walk over to them, her hand on her chest as if to still her rapidly beating heart. "Arinya, what is he talking about?" she asked. Her normally strong, firm voice had an edge to it, even a slight quiver.

Arinya bit her lower lip, uncomfortable with all the pairs of eyes on her. She dug the heel of her boot into the soft earth. Her green eyes shifted to her parents. "I…did not tell you everything that happened to me when I was lost in the woods," she said slowly.

"What did you not tell us?" her father asked.

The elf girl took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "When the wolves were attacking us, I had a sort of…incident."

"What kind of incident?" Arandil inquired further.

"It was magic." There. She had finally said it. Just like she had expected, equal looks of complete and utter shock crossed her families faces. They exchanged looks, trying to determine if either of the others had a better understanding of what she had just told them.

"What," Eretria began, but her voice shook so much that she had to stop herself and clear her throat. "Wha-how did this happen?"

"I'm not sure. I could somehow communicate with the animals."

Leyandril placed a hand on her shoulder, looking her squarely in the eye. "That is not unusual. Elves have a natural bond to the flora and fauna of the world."

"No." Arinya shook her head, her braid moving back and forth across her back. "It was more than that. I know that elves are more attuned to nature than other races, but this was different. I could feel their emotions. Maybe even their thoughts, to a certain extent. And I could communicate back to them without speaking. Now, other than me, what other elves do you know that can do something even remotely similar to such a thing?"

Her father nodded knowingly. "Lady Galadriel."

"But I do not understand how you could have already agreed to go before Lady Galadriel. You have never been anywhere near Lothlorien, let alone entered it," Arandil said, his voice confused.

"After I was wounded in the bear attack, I feel unconscious, as you know. During my unconscious state, the Lady came to me. She told me that she had felt my power awaken and that it was continuing to grow. If left unchecked, I could lose what little control I have and hurt someone close to me. That is the last thing I want. So, Lady Galadriel bade me go to Lothlorien, where she could train me to control my power," the elf girl told them.

"Wait, wait, wait. You are leaving? You cannot leave," Eretria said, her voice slightly frantic.

Arinya smiled sadly at her mother. "I do not think I have a choice in the matter. The longer I stay here, the more risk I pose not only to you, but to myself as well. I must go."

"For how long?" her father asked, his voice oddly quiet.

Arinya understood their reaction to this. Everything was happening so fast. In a matter of minutes, they had just learned that she possessed magic and had been summoned by the Lady of the Galadhrim herself to begin her training. To be entirely truthful, Arinya was having trouble processing it all, as well. One minute she had thought it was all a dream. The next, elven hunters showed up on her doorstep to take her to Lothlorien.

The brunette shrugged. "I do not know. However long it takes," she replied. "When I become more proficient, I can come and visit. Or, you could come and visit me."

Leyandril and Eretria exchanged a look before returning their gazes to their daughter. "Please understand that this is very sudden. It is a lot to process," Eretria said.

"I know. I'm still having trouble with it myself," Arinya scoffed. She moved around her protective and stunned family to stand before Haldir. The blond elf had been waiting patiently for her to finish their discussion. "When did you wish to leave?" she asked him.

"Sunrise of tomorrow. It should give you enough time to pack your belongings and say your goodbyes. We will leave for now and return in the morning," Haldir answered. Arinya nodded stiffly in agreement. Turning on his heel and signaling to his men, Haldir led the way out into the forest. In mere moments they were gone from sight.

Sunrise of tomorrow? It was so soon. Of course she didn't expect them to sit around and wait for her for a week. But she thought she could at least have two or three days. It appeared as though time was of the essence with these elves, and it probably was, considering how her power was supposedly growing stronger and stronger by the hour.

She turned around to look at her family. Their expressions were, understandably, still stunned from the revelation of the events that had just unfolded. Arinya averted her eyes. She couldn't look anymore. She couldn't stand the surprised, yet saddened, expressions on their faces.

The elf girl began to briskly walk past them, saying, "I am going to go and start gathering my things together." She heard her mother start to call her back, but her father quickly silenced her, telling her that "she probably needed to be alone for a moment." Eretria seemed to agree with this and fell silent. Arinya was glad. So many thoughts and emotions were swirling through her mind at the moment that it was hard to make sense of all of them.

Arinya opened the door to their cottage, casting a look towards the woods in the direction that the group of elven hunters led by Haldir had retreated. As she had expected, she saw nothing. Turning her attention forward once again, the brunette entered her home, shutting the door behind her. She took off her new cloak, seeing as how her other one had been ruined, and set in on one of the hooks beside the door.

She slowly strode further into the house. She would be leaving in the morning and this would no longer be the place in which she awoke each morning. It was a strange concept to consider, let alone think about getting used to. Arinya had grown up in this house her entire life. She knew no other home. She felt as if she would be somehow incomplete upon leaving. For, in a sense, the elf girl would be leaving a piece of herself behind. There were so many memories in this house that she hated to leave behind.

To Arinya's left, there was a deep crack in the wall from when Arandil and Arinya had been practicing their archery indoors when it was raining. Much to their parent's dismay, Arandil had missed one of the shots onto their makeshift target that they had brought inside. The arrow had buried itself in the wall and left a small reminder of that memory behind. Arinya always thought of that day whenever she saw it. After she moved to Lothlorien, there would be no more fun reminders of past memories. There would be no familiar faces. There would be nothing. She would be alone.

Arinya could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, blurring her vision as they threatened to spill down her cheeks. Through sheer force of will, the brunette held them back as she swiftly strode into her room, shutting the door securely behind her.

Still aware of her healing wounds, Arinya carefully sat down upon her bed. She laid back slowly onto her bed, resting her head on her pillow. The elf girl pulled the covers up and over her head, as if to hide her face from the noonday sun.

Everything she knew was about to change and she could only hope it was for the better.

A/N: I would just like to say hello and thank you to all the people who have followed, favorited, or simply kept regular tabs on my story. I'm really glad you all like it so much. Thank you for all of the amazing reviews. I especially love all you people who give me paragraph long reviews, which I absolutely adore and love to read. I really am not kidding when I say "the more reviews I get, the faster I write." I think I may have proven that fact.

So, once again, thank you to you all! Any advice you gave me will surely be put into effect as soon as I can!

As always: PLEASE REVIEW!


	17. Dread

Arinya grabbed a handful of clothes from her dresser. She walked back over to her bed and stuffed them into her shoulder bag that rested there. Already, the bad was bulging with the amount of items she had shoved into it.

It had been about an hour since the elven hunters from Lothlorien had left. So far, Arinya had been left on her own. Perhaps her family wanted to give her some time alone. Or maybe they still needed time to come to terms with what was happening. Arinya understood. In a matter of minutes, they had learned that their daughter had magic, was summoned by one of the most powerful elves in Middle-earth, and was leaving the next morning. The elf girl's mind was still whirling from what was happening.

She strode back to her dresser and opened another drawer. The brunette reached into it and drew out its contents and began to head back to the bed. She let the bundle of clothes tumble from her arms onto the top of her bed. Arinya just stood there for a moment, staring. She was trying to pack her entire life into one bag. She knew she wasn't going to have room for a lot of the things she wished to bring along. She ached at the thought of leaving anything behind. Things like her family.

Things like her only friend.

Arinya had thought to go back into Dale once she finished packing, and ask the doctor if he knew who the dwarf boy was, but she quickly threw away the thought. They hadn't exchanged names for a reason. The dwarf boy had seemed to be rather secretive about himself. He didn't want to share his name for a specific reason, and she chose to honor that. When he chose to do so, he would tell her his name and, in turn, she would tell him hers. But that didn't stop her mind from running wild with questions on why he didn't wish to share his name with her. They had already become friends and yet they didn't know one another's name. It was a strange situation.

Her mind began to imagine that he hadn't told her his name simply because he wanted to be able to cleanly cut ties with her once they reached Dale. He was merely being polite when she confessed how he was her only friend and felt he had no choice but to say the same back, lest he harm her feelings. And when she had been hurt by the bear, the dwarf boy probably felt nothing more than an obligation to take her to a doctor. It was just common courtesy for him to stay hours later to make sure she was alright. Or he could have simply been waiting for his wounds to be attended to before he left. Afterwards, there had been no word from him. He had told Arinya that his family would probably confine him to the mountain as a punishment, but she began to wonder if that was only a lie; an excuse to justify why he hadn't been to see her. She began to wonder if anything she learned about him during their questionnaire game was even real. Or had it all been a lie…?

She quickly banished such thoughts from her mind. She didn't want to believe them. What the elf girl did have to believe was that she could find him and see him one last time before she was spirited away to Lothlorien. Maybe she could go to the gates of the mountain and ask for him. As if they would even let an elf inside. Besides, when they asked who she was looking for, what would she say? I'm looking for a dwarf? It was like looking for a specific piece of straw in a haystack. It was impossible.

And yet, Arinya still had to try. She wanted to say goodbye to him before she left. At the very least, she could write a note to him and have it delivered to the mountain, giving the messenger his description and hoping for the best. It seemed to be all she could do at the moment.

Though, her thoughts did stray back to the doctor back in Dale. Perhaps he knew who the dwarf boy was. But, like she had before, the brunette threw away the idea. He didn't need to ask for his name to treat him. Besides, what would have been the point in the doctor asking? Dwarves were not exactly regular patients, so he didn't need to keep a record on him. The chances were very high that the doctor had absolutely no idea who he was. He probably knew no more than Arinya on where to find him. More than likely, his suggestion would be to go to the Lonely Mountain. That only brought her back to her letter idea. At the moment, it seemed to be her best shot. She may not get to see him, but at least she could thank him for saving her life and say goodbye.

Arinya turned and began to head back to her dresser to empty another drawer, but stopped when she heard a knock upon her door. The elf girl paused in the middle of the room, her gaze shifting to the door. "Come in."

The door swung slowly open to admit her mother, who slowly entered the room, shutting the door behind her. Eretria crossed her arms over her chest and looked at her daughter. "I just came to see if you were alright."

Arinya sighed heavily. "Not really." The elf girl walked over to her dresser, opened another drawer, and began to dig through its contents. She was quickly running out of room in her bag. She was going to have to start being more choosy about what she wished to bring with her to Lothlorien.

Eretria slowly crossed the room, taking a seat on the edge of her bed. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked in that concerned, gentle voice that only a mother could possess.

The brunette fished out several articles of clothing from her drawer and began to shove them into her shoulder bag. "I am not entirely sure what to say," she replied. She was about to turn and head back to her dresser, but she felt her mother grab her hand. Arinya turned, her vivid green eyes finding her Eretria's own bright blue ones.

"Arinya, wait. Just sit for a moment, please." With yet another sigh, the elf girl took a seat on her bed next to her mother. "Here, I wanted to give you something." Eretria reached to her side, her fingers fiddling with something. It took Arinya a moment to realize what she was doing. She was unbuckling her beloved hunting dagger from her belt. When it was released, Eretria took ahold of the dagger and sheath and handed it to her daughter. "I want you to have this," she said with a small smile.

Arinya looked from her mother to the dagger and back again, utter shock reflected on her features. "I cannot take this," the elf girl said, pushing the dagger away.

Eretria pushed back though. She took her daughters hands and wrapped them around the sheath. "But I want you to take it. I will not take no for an answer." Slowly, with obvious reluctance, Arinya took ahold of the dagger and set in on her lap. She turned it over and over, running her fingers over the worn leather, admiring the fine craftsmanship of the hilt. Her mother smiled as she watched her. "I know that you told us that you lost your dagger in the woods in your fight with that bear. So, I wanted to give you a new one."

"But this is your dagger," she breathed. "I could always get a new one in Dale or Lothlorien."

"Yes, you could. But, I want you to have this one. I want to know you have a weapon that will protect you. It has served me well in these past years. Now, it will do the same for you," Eretria smiled, reaching up a hand to gently stroke a lock of Arinya's hair behind her ear.

Arinya tore her attention away from the dagger to look at her mother. "Thank you," she said, a genuinely grateful smile on her face.

Eretria's smile broadened slightly. "You're welcome, dear one." Her hand came away from Arinya's face and rested in her lap. "Now, I feel the need to ask, how do you feel about moving away to Lothlorien?"

The elf girl's grip tightened on the dagger, her gaze directed downward. "I'm not sure how to feel about it. If I had to give an answer, I would probably say…scared."

"Are you sure you want to go?" her mother asked suddenly.

Arinya looked up at her mother as if she was crazy. "Of course I do not want to go! I would love nothing more than to stay here, but I feel I must go!" she said, her voice emotional.

"I did not mean to upset you. I just want to make sure you are happy with your decision."

"I do not know what to think about my decision. I want to stay here, at home, with you, and father, and Arandil. But yet, I feel that I am obligated to go to Lothlorien."

"Why? Why do you think it is so necessary for you to go?" Eretria asked.

"I have already told you what the Lady Galadriel said to me. If I do not get my powers under control, I could risk hurting the people closest to me. That is the last thing that I want."

"What powers? What magic? I have never seen such a thing come from you."

"It happened for the first time out in the woods, like I told you. Galadriel sensed it and came to me in my dream, telling me what I had to do."

Eretria nodded. "Yes. I know. I am sorry. I do not mean to question you. I am just worried about you. You have never been away from home for more than two weeks. Now you must move away to Lothlorien for the foreseeable future. I thought you would be lonely being by yourself so far from home."

"I will. Not a day will go by that I will not wish I was home. But it is probably better for everyone if I just leave. I do not want to mistakenly harm any of you." Arinya grew quiet, staring down at her mother's dagger clutched in her hands. She stood up suddenly, still not looking at Eretria. "I am going to go for a walk. I just…I need to be alone for a while."

Her mother nodded. "I understand."

Without saying anything in response, Arinya strode past her mother, opened her bedroom door, and was gone.


	18. Gone

"What do you mean gone?" Thorin exclaimed.

The soldier who he had been talking to cringed slightly at the sight of his lord, who was clearly upset. "Just what I said, my lord. One day she was there, and the next she was not. I cannot say what happened to her."

Thorin brought up his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. For the past week or so, he had been getting regular updates on the elf girl's condition. To be discreet, they had paid dwarven merchants who frequented the city to trade to go by the doctor's office to check on the elf girl. They hadn't been told why they had to do such a thing, but merely did it. They didn't talk to the doctor, though. All they did was check to make sure she was still there. It might appear strange if a dwarf repeatedly visited the office and questioned the doctor on her condition, especially when the doctor had no idea who this dwarf was or what their relation was to the girl.

Thorin was silent for a long time. How could this happen? He knew that she was on the mend, but then she just vanished. Had there been complications? Had she gotten an infection and died? No. Thorin mentally shook his head to rid himself of those dark thoughts. The answer was much simpler than that. She must have become well enough to return home and heal there. The problem was that Thorin had no idea where they lived. All he knew was that she lived in the forest outside Dale. The specific location was unclear.

"Are you alright, m'lord?" the soldier asked, obviously uncomfortable with his prince's silence.

The dwarf boy let his hand fall to his side as he looked back to the other dwarf. "I am fine. Do not worry about me," he answered, with a wave of his hand. "That will be all."

With a low bow, the dwarven soldier turned and headed down the hallway, presumably towards the barracks. Thorin watched him until he was out of sight and then headed the opposite direction down the hall. He needed to convince his grandfather to allow him to leave the mountain once more. He knew his father was more adamant about not letting him leave the mountain, but his grandfather just might. Besides, his grandfather had the final say so as King Under the Mountain.

Thorin walked with a brisk, determined gait towards the room in which he knew he would find King Thrór. He needed to leave the mountain to go and find the elf girl. He wasn't entirely sure why he was so anxious. She had to be alright. She had to be alive. But he needed to see her again, just to be sure. To do that, though, he had to leave the mountain.

It had been several weeks. How long must he wait? Thorin paced up and down the floor of his room. It felt like an incredible amount of time had passed since he had gone to his grandfather, trying to convince him to allow him to leave the mountain, if only for a few hours. It just needed to be long enough for him to find where the elf girl lived and see her.

After he had finished his argument, King Thrór had fallen silent. All he said in response was that he would consider it. It had been several weeks now, and his grandfather still had not answered him. Thorin had repeatedly gone to seek him out, trying to further his argument and see if the king would make a decision. So far, though, there had been nothing.

The dwarf prince was getting more and more anxious as time passed. He wasn't entirely sure why. He knew she wasn't going anywhere. So why was he so desperate to get there as soon as possible?

Without a knock, the door to the dwarf prince's room swung open. Thorin stopped his pacing and turned to look. In the doorway stood his grandfather, King Thrór. Thorin respectfully inclined his head.

The King clasped his arms behind his back as he regarded his young grandson. "I have decided to approve your request. You do deserve the chance to thank this elf in person. But," Thrór held up a hand. "You will be escorted by no less than eight soldiers."

Thorin had expected that he would be escorted, but he hadn't thought that it would be that many. "Surely, I do not require that many soldier to escort me."

"Well, seeing as how the first time you went out with only two soldiers to guard you, you became lost for three days in the forest. I think that eight will suit you well," Thorin's grandfather said firmly.

The dwarf prince nodded. He knew better than to push this any further. He was just happy because he could leave the mountain at all. "I see your point. When may I leave?"

"Anytime you wish," the King Under the Mountain answered.

"Then I will leave now. Thank you, grandfather." Inclining his head, Thorin straightened back up and strode past the King and into the hall beyond.

Within the hour, Thorin had departed from the mountain with his escort. They had journeyed directly into Dale. He received more than a few looks from the citizens of Dale, but he didn't care. He just kept focused on the task at hand.

Seeing as how he had seemed to recognize the elf girl, Thorin went straight to the doctor's office. His memory very vague from the last time he had been there, the dwarf price lost his way more than once. Eventually, though, he found it. He had entered and hastily questioned the doctor. Luckily, he seemed to understand the dwarf boy's situation and gave Thorin directions to the elf girl's home.

After about another hour of walking, the dwarf prince and his escort broke through the trees and stood before a small cottage. So, this was her home. With a glance to his guards, Thorin strode up to the door and knocked.

A moment later, the door swung open. Before the young prince stood a tall elven man with long blond hair and green eyes. His face was expressionless, but yet his eyes were strangely gentle and kind. This must be Leyandril, the elf girl's father.

Leyandril's expression turned mildly surprised upon seeing Thorin on his doorstep. Leyandril's eyes scanned over the prince, then the armed escort, and back to him. The dwarf boy wondered if the elder elf recognized him. "Can I help you?" he asked.

"Yes, I would like to speak to your daughter, if you would not mind," Thorin said, trying to conduct himself some manner of decorum.

The blond elf was about to open his mouth to respond, but a voice from behind him cut him off and caused him to turn. "Who is it?"

Walking up to stand beside Leyandril, was a human woman. She had long brown hair secured back into a braid and bright blue eyes. She was much shorter than her husband, her head reaching his shoulder. As she walked up, Thorin couldn't help but to observe how much the elf girl looked like her mother.

Thorin nodded a greeting as she came up to them. Once her eyes landed on the dwarf boy, she fell silent. She probably recognized him as well.

"What business do you have with our daughter, Prince Thorin?" Leyandril asked.

It was official. They knew exactly who he was. "I was the boy who was traveling with your daughter, those three days we went missing in the forest. I just came to make sure she was alright after I left her in the care of the doctor. I also wanted the chance to thank her for saving my life," Thorin told them.

The blond haired elf exchanged a look with Eretria before they both returned their gaze to him. He could clearly see the surprise in their expressions. They must have been told about the dwarf boy who accompanied their daughter, but were shocked to find that it had been Thorin, grandson of Thrór, King Under the Mountain.

"I see…Well, she is not here at the moment," Eretria told him.

Thorin's blue eyes shifted between the two of them. "Where is she?"

"She went for a walk. She will be back shortly, I think." Eretria gestured to the interior of their house. "Would you like to come in and wait for her?" Her eyes glanced to his soldiers warily before returning to the dwarf prince.

"No, thank you," he said, a friendly smile on his face. He knew that she was simply being polite. It would be rather uncomfortable and he didn't want to trouble them further. "Can you just tell her to meet me at the bridge- the one that goes over the river? I will wait for her there."

Leyandril nodded. "Of course. We will pass along the message."

"Thank you. I am grateful for your help." With that, Thorin inclined his head in farewell and turned to begin walking to where he knew the bridge was, his escort close on his heels.

A/N: Sorry if this seems like it's taking forever. I just wanted to get down the gist of their thoughts and set up some family moments.

As for some questions that were posed, Thorin and Arinya will NOT be getting together for a while yet. For all my fanfics, I believe in setting up a strong friendship before moving on to the actually romance. This will be no different. Don't worry, though. I'm just as eager to get to the romance as you are so I'm writing fast. So if there are spelling and grammar errors, that's why.

I'm in the process of writing the farewell chapter now. I hope to post it within the next week, but we'll see.

Thanks for all the amazing reviews! I really appreciate it! And welcome to all the new followers! I will try to keep you all posted. If you have any questions or advice, feel free to ask.


	19. Bittersweet

Thorin stood upon the bridge over the raging rapids, silently awaiting the elf girl's arrival. He had his escort wait a ways down the road, out of sight. He didn't want to alarm the elf girl when she came. That is, if she came. The dwarf boy had already been waiting for several hours. It was nightfall now, the sun setting over the tops of the trees. If she didn't come soon, he would have to leave without seeing her. He needed to head back to the mountain before it became too late.

But what if she didn't come? Would she actually choose not to come? He didn't think he had. So, why wouldn't she come? Thorin's thoughts strayed to her parents. Maybe they were hesitant about having her meet with him, regardless of whether they had actually met before or not. It probably didn't inspire confidence in the fact that he also had an armed escort with him. They had no idea if his intentions were what he had told them. Perhaps they would forbid her from coming. Or they could simply not tell her.

Thorin shook his head and sighed. He needed to stop thinking of the worst case scenario. As he had done many times already, the prince straightened and glanced down the road. There was still no sign of the elf girl. There wasn't even the sound of footsteps. All there was was the cool night breeze blowing gently through the leaves in the trees and the long blades of grass on the ground.

Thorin rested his arms on the stone railing of the bridge. He directed his blue gaze downward, watching the rushing water, as he waited for the arrival of the elf girl.

"Thinking about jumping in?" a voice asked suddenly.

The dwarf boy straightened in surprise. He knew that voice. He turned his head in the direction that it had originated and was greeted by the elf girl, who stood at the foot of the bridge with a small smile on her face. Thorin returned the smile as he looked her up and down. She looked much better than the last time he had seen her. The color had returned to her face, her clothes were not bloodstained, and when she had spoken her voice had not been weak and tired. All in all, she looked exactly the way she had when he first met her that day in the woods. The elf girl even wore similar clothes, each of them earthy colors meant to help her blend into the surrounding forest.

He pushed away from the railing to look at her. "Not even remotely," he smiled.

The elf girl shrugged as she came a few steps closer. "That really is a shame. I hear the water is wonderful this time of year," she commented dryly. Her vivid green eyes strayed briefly to the river before returning to Thorin.

The dwarf prince gestured to the raging rapids just below the bridge. "Then, by all means, do not let me stand in your way if you wish to take a brief swim."

The brunette was silent for a moment before answering. "No thanks. I would rather not ruin these clothes."

"So, clothes are more important to you than having a good time?"

She scoffed. "In this case, yes. I had to throw out some of my favorite clothes from the last time I put fun before their welfare."

Thorin chuckled softly. His blue gaze locked on her own green one. They were silent for a moment, content with just taking in one another's appearance. It certainly had been a long time and they looked quite different from the last time they had laid eyes on one another. "I was beginning to think you would not come," Thorin told her honestly.

The elf girl's smile broadened slightly. She took another few steps closer until she stood before him. "Why would I not?"

The dwarf prince shrugged. "I am not entirely sure. I was busying myself with coming up with an explanation when you finally arrived."

She let out a breathy laugh. "Sorry. I was…out for a walk." The brunette turned her attention away from Thorin. She walked over to the edge of the bridge, setting her pale fingertips on the stone railing as her green eyes skimmed the water. Thorin came over and joined her, crossing his arms and resting them on the railing as well. "You know, I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to come as well," she said quietly, not looking at him as she spoke.

"I apologize. My father and grandfather kept me confined to the mountain as a punishment for my 'reckless behavior.' I did not wish to create more anger, so I accepted the sentence. Besides, I wished to spend a little time with my family. According to my brother, my mother was worried sick. I think my father was mostly angry with me because he feared the stress would harm the baby."

The elf girl looked at him sideways, her brow furrowed in concern. "Did it?"

Thorin shook his head, a small smile appearing on his lips. "The baby was born a few days ago, perfectly healthy." He couldn't help but have his smile broaden and he saw the brunette's face light up with excitement.

"What did she give birth to?" she asked, not masking her eagerness.

"A girl," he answered.

She grinned. "You have a little sister," she smiled. "Did your parents decide on a name?"

Thorin nodded. "Dis."

"Dis," the elf girl said, repeating the word as if to see how it felt on her tongue. "I like it. It truly is a pretty name."

"I am glad you do." Thorin shifted his feet a little as he looked at the elf girl. He was silent for a moment before speaking once again. "I have been meaning to ask you…" The brunette moved her green gaze from the river to the dwarf boy once more. "How are you? I mean, the last time I saw you…"

She smiled knowingly as she looked back to the river. "I was a bloody mess? I was on Death's door?" she said, finishing what he was trying to say.

Thorin nodded. "Yes."

"Well, as you can see, I am better than I was. Much better. I still cannot move very well, but the pain is not what it once was. For that I am grateful." She paused and looked at the dwarf prince sideways. "I owe you my life. For that, I will be forever in your debt."

Thorin waved his hand through the air as if to dismiss what she had just said. "Think nothing of it. You did the same for me when you pushed me out of the way." The dark haired boy smiled. "It appears that I am in your debt as well."

The brunette laughed lightly. She brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she looked at him once again. "Then perhaps we should cancel the debt. I do not think it is possible for two people to be indebted to each other in such a way," she smiled.

"You are probably right about that," he responded.

Slowly, the smile faded from her face as she looked at him. "What about you? I recall seeing a wound on your head the last we saw of each other," she asked thoughtfully.

"It is practically healed, along with many of my other wounds," he answered. His smile widened ever so slightly when he saw the relief wash across her expression."

"Good," she breathed.

"So, what about you? How did your family react once you returned?" Thorin asked.

She shrugged. "At first, they were fine. They were simply worried about me healing from my wounds. After returning home, though, they were adamant about keeping me inside. Eventually, they let me leave the house for merely an hour at a time, but someone always had to be accompanying me. Usually it was my brother." The elf girl smiled and shook her head. "I suppose that the initial worry is starting to subside now, though. I was surprised when they let me go for a walk on my own tonight. I guess that they understood that I needed to be left alone…." She trailed off and became lost in thought. Her green eyes became unfocused as they gazed out over the water, seeing something that Thorin could not.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, his brow knitted in concern.

The elf girl visibly shook out of her reverie, but she didn't look at the dwarf boy. She simply kept gazing out over the water. "Not entirely," she said softly.

"Has something happened?" She nodded. "What?" Thorin asked, his voice anxious as he encouraged her to continue.

She was silent for a long time, seemingly searching for the words. Thorin waited patiently for her to begin, content to let her organize her thoughts before she began. Then, all at once, she told him everything. She told him about meeting with an elf by the name of Galadriel in a sort of dream world while she was unconscious. She told him how Galadriel had informed her of her growing power and her need for training so that she can avoid hurting others or herself due to her lack of experience. The elf girl also went on to say how she wanted her to come to Lothlorien for training. In the weeks to follow, she had thought it had been a figment of her imagination, but was later proved wrong when a group of elven hunters from Lothlorien appeared on her doorstep this very day to bring her before the Lady. She finished by telling him that she planned on going to Lothlorien to begin her training.

Thorin was silent while she told him her story, thoughtfully considering each word. When the elf girl had finally finished her tale, he couldn't find any words to say in response.

The brunette watched his face carefully, her expression deeply anxious as she awaited his response. "Well?" she asked. "Say something."

Thorin sighed. "I'm not entirely sure what you wish me to say in response to something like this."

"Anything," she said, her voice pleading. "Do you at least believe me?"

The prince nodded. "Of course I believe you." His blue eyes shifted to her face just in time to see the relief wash over it. A grateful smile crept onto her lips as she looked at him. "I'm…it's a lot to take in."

The elf girl scoffed. "I know. Believe me, I know."

There was a moment of silence between the two of them. Thorin could feel her gaze on him, waiting for him to say something. He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed once again. "When do you leave?" he asked, his voice sounding strangely exhausted.

He could see the elf girl stiffen. "Tomorrow morning."

The hand dropped to his side as Thorin looked at her open mouthed, not bothering to hide the shock from his face. "Tomorrow?" he asked incredulously. She nodded. "Why so soon?"

The brunette directed her gaze away from him. "I need to begin the training as soon as possible. It is imperative that i start as soon as I can to avoid mistakenly hurting those around me. I would have gone sooner had it not been for my injury."

"'Mistakenly hurting those around you?'" he repeated in disbelief. "All your magic has done was save us from a pack of wolves by communicating with them without using words. I fail to see how this is something that can harm others. Besides, it saved us. It cannot be all that bad."

"True. It does not sound so dangerous, but I would much rather not risk it. Lady Galadriel said that my power continues to grow. If it is left unchecked, it is inevitable that I will harm someone. That is the last thing that I want," the elf girl said with no small degree of sadness to her voice.

"These are all just words that you are repeating that this Galadriel has said to you. Even as you tell me this, it sounds as if you are still trying to convince yourself that they are true," Thorin threw at her, his voice rising in volume.

The brunette bit her lower lip as she looked away. "Perhaps I am," she said quietly. She pushed away from the stone railing of the bridge. She walked a few steps away and stopped with her back to him.

Thorin straightened up as he watched her carefully. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to snap at you," he apologized.

The elf girl whirled around and waved her hand through the air as if to ward off his words. "No, no. Don't be sorry. What you said is true." Her vivid green eyes strayed down to her feet as she once again tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I…I am still coming to terms with everything that has happened- it has all happened so fast. But, I do trust Lady Galadriel's judgment. If she deems that I require training, then I will travel to Lothlorien to begin. It does not mean that I will not miss my home or my family or you." She smiled sadly at him. "I go because I must."

"But we've only just reunited," he said, his voice still struck with disbelief. "Am I to never see you again?"

The brunette vigorously shook her head and took a few swift steps forward until she stood before the dwarf prince. "No. When I am far enough in my training, I can return for visits. Perhaps, given enough time, I could even complete my training and return permanently. Only time will tell, though. But, maybe I could see you during those times," she said hopefully, saying the last sentence more as a question.

"Of course," Thorin replied with a smile. "But you should make sure to spend time with your family first. I do not wish to be the reason you see less of them."

The elf girl returned the smile. "Do not worry. They will be the first I see. Oh!" She suddenly remembered something. She reached behind her, underneath her new cloak, and began to fiddle with something behind there. When she had finished, she produced a dagger. Just from its hilt, Thorin could see that it was finely crafted. And just from the worn leather sheath, he could also see that it had seen its fair share of use. "This is my mother's dagger. She uses it for hunting- has for years. It is one of her most prized possessions and she gave it to me as a farewell gift. Something to protect me, seeing as how I lost my dagger in the fight with the bear."

Thorin nodded, remembering it all too well. The elf girl handed him the dagger and the prince turned it over and over in his hands. He took ahold of the hilt and pulled it slightly from its sheath. He admired the shine and craftsmanship of the blade with a dwarven eye, scrutinizing every detail. When he had finished, he slid it back into its sheath and gave it back to the girl. "It is a fine blade," he told her.

She smiled as she took it back and began to look at it. "I know. I have been admiring it for many years. I suppose my mother knew how much I liked it and wanted to give it to me," she said thoughtfully.

"Or," the elf girl tore her gaze away from the dagger to look at Thorin. "She could have given it to you as something to remember her by- so that you'll always have a piece of home with you."

She smiled in response. "I think perhaps you are right." With one last look, the elf girl took the dagger and began to secure it behind her once more. When she had finished, her green eyes fixed on Thorin's own bright blue ones. "So then, what about us?"

"Us?" Thorin repeated, perplexed.

The brunette let out a breathy laugh. "We do not know one another's name and yet we have already decided to meet once again in the future. It could very well be years before I return again. We will both have changed dramatically during that time and will not recognize one another upon sight. So, how do we meet each other without an exchange of names?" She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a quizzical look.

Thorin hesitated. He knew they would eventually have to share their names, but yet he still hoped that they could hold out just a while longer. He couldn't stop himself from worrying that once she learned who he was that she would treat him differently from before. He didn't want that. He liked their relationship the way it was now and didn't want it to change. Apparently neither her father nor her mother had informed her of his true identity. So, at least for now, he had a clean slate. That was when an idea came into the forefront of his mind.

"A valid point. In response to that, I have a proposition for you," Thorin began.

The elf girl looked unsure of what it was he was planning. "Okay…" she said slowly. "What is it?"

"I propose that we do not exchange names this day." The brunette was about to protest, but Thorin held up a hand to silence her. "Simply listen to what I have to say. Then you can decide whether or not to agree with it." Her expression mildly curious now, the elf girl nodded. "Clearly, there is some force at work here that keeps pushing the two of us toward one another. It was a miracle that I found anyone after I became lost in the woods. But yet, I still managed to find the one other person in that forest- you. Even after our little adventure, and went our separate ways for several weeks, we still managed to find one another. It was amazing that I was able to find you the night before you leave. That does not seem to be mere chance. So, my proposition is that we leave it up to fate. We will see if it pulls us together once more. And if it does, then we were meant to find one another and become friends. Upon that day that we reunite once more, we will finally exchange names." Thorin finished his proposal and looked to the elf girl's face expectantly. It was not just some devious way to avoid giving his name. He had meant every word he had said.

After a moment, a wide smile spread across the brunette's face. "I really like that idea," she said softly. "There is one problem with your plan, though."

"What is it?"

"Even if fate pulls us together, how will we know? If enough time has passed, we will be unable to recognize one another," she told him.

Thorin paused as he thought it over. Then, yet another idea came into his head. Reaching up his hand, the dwarf prince extended his fingers towards his other hand and began to pull off his silver ring. When it was off, he let his hand fall back to his side, feeling strangely bare without the ever present ring on its finger. Extending his hand towards her, Thorin offered his ring.

The elf girl looked from him to the ring and back again. Her eyes were wide with disbelief and surprise. She brought up her hand and pushed away his own outstretched hand. "I cannot take this," she said firmly.

"It is a gift." The dwarf boy told her. The elf girl still hesitated, unsure of whether to take such a gift. Thorin seized her hand, and opened it so that it faced palm side up. He dropped the ring into her hand and closed her fingers around it. "As long as you have this, and I see it, then I will surely recognize you the next we meet," he said. His blue eyes flicked up to look into her own green ones. Their gazes became locked for a moment, neither of them saying anything as Thorin still held her hand closed over his ring.

Slowly, the elf girl withdrew her hand. Her eyes glanced downwards as she smiled. "I think it is too big for me," she said. "Maybe I will wear it on a necklace." Taking the ring, the brunette tucked it into her pocket.

"Do whatever you wish. Just do not lose that ring," Thorin said strongly.

Her green eyes returned to his face, the smile still on her lips. "I won't. I promise." Then, unexpectedly, the elf girl took a step closer and wrapped her arms around Thorin's neck. She buried her head in his shoulder as she hugged him. The dwarf prince hesitated, momentarily stuck by what she had done. He quickly recovered, though, and wrapped his own arms around her waist. "I'm going to miss you, dwarf," she whispered in his ear.

Thorin smiled. "I will miss you as well, elf."

Then, as swiftly as it had begun, the embrace ended. They released their grip on one another and pulled away. The elf girl wore a sheepish smile on her face, which slowly faded. "I…uhh…I should probably start going home. I have to leave early and I have not quite finished packing my things.," she said slowly, gesturing through the trees in the direction of her home.

"I have to be getting home as well," Thorin said.

Neither of them moved. They just looked at one another, memorizing every detail of the other's appearance. This was going to be the last time they saw each other for a very long time.

Then, the moment ended. The elf girl flashed a brilliant smile, all the sadness momentarily banished from her expression. "Goodbye," she said quietly. Swiftly, she turned on her heel and began to make her way down from the bridge and into the forest towards her home.

Thorin watched her leave until she was completely out of sight, the darkness of the woods swallowing her whole. After she was gone, he was left alone on the bridge. "Goodbye," he said, almost to himself. As he continued to look out into the woods in the direction that the elf girl had disappeared, Thorin found himself silently praying that fate would let him see her again.

A/N: Haha! I bet you all thought this would be the chapter where they exchanged names. Well, you thought wrong! Chapter 19 and they still don't know each other's name. Find me another fanfic that has done that!

I am amazed at how long this chapter turned out. I usually only make it to about four pages while this one is spilling onto page eight. Unbelievable.

Well, once again, thank you for all the really nice reviews and welcome to all the new followers. Just an fyi, this story may not be updated as fast as usual. I just got a new job which is keeping me pretty busy, not to mention the fact that I have been neglecting my other fanfics. So, sadly, I am going to take a short break from this story to focus on other things. Besides, it will give you the illusion that time is passing. ;)

We'll see how that goes. As always, please give me reviews to know what you thought of this chapter!


	20. Not As It Once Was

Ash. There was ash everywhere. Jagged, foreboding mountains loomed in the distance, their peaks like black rotted teeth. Rivers were choked with pollution, the smell enough to drive off what remaining wildlife there was. Bodies littered the landscape, whether dead from disease or the aftermath of some great battle was not apparent. Entire cities were in flames, once proud citadels and minarets reduced to no more than rubble. Creatures prowled the shadows of this desolate land, preying on any who still lived. Dark clouds covered the sky, coating the land in darkness. Far in the distance, a loud rumble like thunder could be heard. Upon looking at the horizon, a tall mountain could be seen. But this one was different all the others. From its peak, this one spewed flames.

Suddenly, the image changed. The forsaken landscape that was there before was exchanged for a new one. It was the interior of some great hall. It was clearly of dwarven make, but it could not be determined which hall it belonged to. Piles of gold and precious gems filled the room, leaving little room for maneuvering through what was now apparent to be a treasure room. Amidst the mountains of wealth, two figures were now apparent.

The first was an older dwarf with a great white beard and hair, laden with gold clasps. He wore grand black robes embroidered and stitched with gold. A magnificent golden crown rested upon his brow, marking him as a king. Faded blue eyes scanned wildly over his piles of gold, as if fearing as soon as he took his gaze off of it, it would suddenly disappear.

Standing just behind him, was a younger dwarf. He had long, raven black hair and a close cropped beard. He wore fine robes, similar to the older dwarf's, themed with colors of black, blue, and silver. Light blue eyes looked to the other dwarf, concern reflected in their depths as he took a step closer to him.

"Grandfather," he said carefully, trying to get the other's attention. The older dwarf's gaze remained fixated upon the piles of treasure before him, giving no inclination that he even heard him. The dark haired dwarf brought up his hand and slowly extended it towards the other man's shoulder. When it touched him, the elder dwarf jerked in surprise. He whirled around, his fist raised, ready to strike at this new enemy. But he stopped short, his eyes wide with surprise. He slowly lowered his hand back to his side. The young dwarf, who had his arms raised in defense, let his hands fall back to his side as well. "You have not eaten or slept for two days," he said carefully. "I was worried about you." His grandfather just looked at him with a bewildered expression, either confused by his sudden appearance or shocked at the fact that he had almost struck his grandson.

The king turned back around, not wanting to look at his grandson, and the shock and mild hurt mirrored there. He returned his gaze back to the piles of gold and jewels before him, as if his eyes were searching for something amidst the glittering mountains. "I am fine," he muttered.

"Grandfather, you must rest. At least come and eat something." The dark haired dwarf reached his hand towards his grandfather's shoulder, but he pulled away from him.

"I said I am fine," he snapped, his posture irritated.

The king's grandson looked at his grandfather a moment longer, before he began to turn. "I will bring you something then…" With one last look at the king, the dark haired dwarf turned and began to walk from the treasure room.

As it had before, the image changed. It was no longer of the dwarven treasure room. It was a massive white city built from the mountains. On the top most level, there was a magnificently crafted citadel and hall. The rest of the level was a large courtyard. In the center of it, there was a withered looking white tree guarded by several heavily armed soldiers. This was the city of Minas Tirith.

It was nightfall, but there were no stars in the sky. Instead, a thick blanket of clouds shrouded the sky, covering the fields of Pelennor. Throughout the lower levels of the city, screams and the sound of battle rang out. Fires burned everywhere, buildings fell into rubble, mothers grabbed their children and ran for the upper levels, soldiers and captains battled against an onslaught of orcs that poured through the shattered gate and into their beloved city. It was utter chaos.

Out on the fields before Minas Tirith was a massive army composed of thousands of orcs and trolls alike. They battered the ramparts with catapults and siege towers latched onto the outer walls. Everywhere you looked, there was the sight of someone dying- whether it was orc, man, or troll.

Suddenly, a door to one of the burial halls flung open. Through the threshold came a man. He was unrecognizable due to his currently enflamed state. He raced through the courtyard, screaming wildly, before he leaped off of the edge and plummeted to the ground below. From the entryway where the man had just come from, vague shapes were barely visible, they're features skewed by the burning light of a fire within.

From somewhere above rose a terrible shrieking. But the night shrouded the source. The heavy beat of wings and the roar of some fell creature arose. A feeling of utter dread and pure fear filled the air itself. Whatever this new devil was, it was getting closer.

Arinya sat bolt upright in her bed, her eyes wide. Her entire body was covered in cold sweat. Her chest heaved, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. She reached up a shaky hand and placed it over her heart in an effort to slow its rapid pounding. She closed her eyes and took deep, calming breaths. After a few minutes, her heart began to slow and her breathing to become normal once again. Arinya swept her bangs behind her ear and uttered a sigh.

It had been five years since she had arrived in Lothlorien. Arinya was seventeen now and it was safe to say that she was a child no longer. She had grown in height, but not by much, thanks to her mother. Her long brown hair had taken on a reddish tint, mainly visible in the light. Her body was turning into that of a woman, growing curves in all the right places. Though, in terms of her people, she was still considered a child, Arinya felt much older. Her vivid green eyes belied her true age. She may be seventeen, but her dreams made her feel as if she was hundreds of years old.

They had started almost a year after she arrived in Lothlorien and began her training. At first, she wrote them off as vivid dreams and nightmares. But then, she began to see things-places she had never been before and people she had never met. Arinya would even glimpse events that hadn't happened yet. When she told Lady Galadriel of her dreams, she had informed her that she was, in fact, seeing the future. But that wasn't all. Arinya could not only glimpse the future, but also see past events as far back as the first age. She could never control what she saw. As soon as Arinya's head hit the pillow, her mind began plagued with visions. In the beginning, they only came to her once a week. Now, though, they afflicted her mind every night she slept. Arinya couldn't remember the last time she had a good night's sleep.

Recently, the visions were becoming more vivid, and more horrific. Scenes of death and destruction on an unimaginable scale. But these events had not yet come to pass. When she told Galadriel of these reoccurring visions of war and death, the elf witch seemed inclined to think that she was seeing multiple timelines-all of them possible futures. When Arinya had expressed her worry over the scenes of thousands of orcs attacking the people of Middle Earth, Galadriel had said that it was most likely a vision of what could come to pass if Sauron had not been defeated or perhaps if he made a return sometime in the future. Clearly, the first had not come to pass but the second she merely said that it was a "possible yet unlikely future." Arinya wanted desperately to agree with her, but something deep inside her nagged at her to not dismiss it so easily.

Arinya threw back the light covers of her canopy bed and let her bare feet touch the cool floor. A gentle breeze blew from the open air room, lightly stirring the curtains at the window. Moonlight poured into the room, illuminating it in a pale glow. Rising from her bed, Arinya walked over to a nearby desk and sat down. She reached over and grabbed a small leather bound book. Opening it, the elf woman flipped through its pages, enjoying the stale scent of a freshly opened book, before she landed on a blank page. Grabbing a quill, Arinya dipped it into a nearby inkwell, making sure the wipe the excess on the rim. Lowering the tip, she began to write.

Anytime and every time she awoke to these dreams, or more like nightmares recently, Arinya would take her journal and write down what she saw and felt. She had started it shortly after the visions had started, just to keep a record of everything she saw. She also used it to research the next day, to find out if she had seen something from the past or the future. It was a lot of work, but Arinya felt she deserved to at least know what it was she was seeing.

She paused momentarily in her writing, her hand straying up to a small chain necklace around her neck. On that necklace was a silver ring of dwarven make. Truth be told, it was one of her most prized possessions. Ever since she had arrived in Lothlorien five years ago, and found a necklace to put the ring on, Arinya had never taken it off. Anytime she looked at it her thoughts strayed to the dwarf boy. She wondered what he was doing now, who he was, and if she would ever see him again. All these questions would not be answered though. Perhaps in time, if fate would allow them to meet once again, she could get her answers.

Arinya's hand released the ring and let her hand fall back down to rest upon the desk. With a sigh, she reached up her hand and swept her bangs away from her face, her hand brushing through her unruly locks. The pale finger tips of her other hand set down the quill and began to idly flip through previous entries of her journal. To accompany certain entries, Arinya had also included drawings to illustrate what she had seen. It was a great help when she did not recognize the location she had witnessed. This way, she could utilize the picture to show to others to help determine what it was. It even worked with certain individuals.

There was one in particular that had taken permanent residence in her visions of late. Arinya flipped to one of her earlier entries and immediately landed on the picture. It was of the same young, dark haired dwarf that she had witnessed in her vision only moments before. It was only an illustration of his face, but it seemed to capture everything about him- from his strong chin with its close cropped beard to his willful yet gentle eyes. To be perfectly honest, Arinya had spent much more time ensuring that this image was just right. Her artistic skills were not worth of much renown, but they were not the worst ever seen. She had wanted a good picture of him, simply to ensure that she could identify him if need be. For some reason, this particular dwarf appeared in her dreams at least once every night. But it was nothing of consequence or importance. It was him playing with his brother or sister, training in swordplay with some of the guards, reading a book before a roaring fire in the study, or-as she had seen tonight- trying to help his ill grandfather. Arinya couldn't be sure why he kept appearing in her visions in such a way. She did not glimpse into the mundane lives of anyone else. So why was she bound to see him go about his life? What made him so special?

A/N: So much for taking a break. I went to try to work on my other fanfics and remembered why I hadn't posted them to a while in the first place: writers block. And I had some time off this week from work, so I had the time to write. In addition, all of your REALLY nice reviews kind of lured me back. See! Reviewing works wonders.

Well, I guess I will be posting on a regular basis once again then. Please keep reviewing and welcome to all the new followers and favorites!


	21. Tribute

Thorin smiled gently down at his young sister, who was standing at his side. Dis fidgeted in her elaborate gown that their mother had stuffed her into. "Dis." The young girl looked up at her eldest brother, her eyes wide and innocent as a five year olds typically were. "Stop playing with your dress."

"It itches," she whined. Her small hands moved all over the dress, scratching and rubbing the material wildly. "And it's uncomfortable."

"Just focus on the fact that the less you move, the faster we can get through this, and the sooner you can get out of your dress," Thorin told her. "Besides, you look lovely in it."

Dis' nose scrunched up. "You're only saying that to get me to stand still, aren't you?"

Thorin chuckled. He turned his attention forward once again. "You caught me."

"I think she looks like a troll," Frerin commented with a mischievous smirk, who was standing on the other side of Dis.

The young dwarf girl whirled on her other brother. "Be quiet, Frerin!" she shouted.

The other boy put on a look of complete innocence as he shrugged. "What? I am only stating what I see," he said, slight smile still on his face. He always did like to tease his little sister.

Thorin sighed. "Frerin. That's enough."

The fourteen year old's brown eyes shifted to his older brother. "I didn't say anything that wasn't true," he said in defense.

"Frerin," Thorin warned.

Frerin was about to respond with a retort, but was quickly silenced by their father. He stood to Thorin's left and peered over at his children, his expression stern. "Be quiet, all of you," he scolded, before turning his attention forward once again.

Thorin inwardly smiled as he saw Dis and Frerin instantly straighten themselves, directing their gaze forward and standing with good posture. Though, for a brief moment, Dis turned to Frerin and stuck her tongue out at him defiantly, before returning her gaze forward once more. The other boy offered nothing in response, only his brow furrowing. He knew better than to say something in response when their father was watching.

Thorin directed his gaze forward as well. Today was a special day. This day, King Thranduil was coming to pay tribute to Thrór, King Under the Mountain. His blue eyes shifted to his grandfather, who was sitting proudly on his throne. Secured above his head was the Arkenstone, the heart of the mountain, its jeweled depths emitting a light glow. A miner had discovered it not a week ago when he was working deep within the earth. It had quickly been presented to the king and mounted upon the throne. Thrór had taken it as a sign that his rule was divine. Now, it appeared that word had spread quickly throughout Middle earth as the King of the Greenwood came to pay his respects.

Thorin directed his gaze forward once more, focusing on the grand stone walkway before him. As he looked, he immediately saw a group of approaching figures. They were clearly elves, their stature tall and proud- or perhaps it was arrogant.

The alliance between the dwarves of Erebor and the elves of Mirkwood was long standing, but strained. At its best, they tolerated each other. The deep distrust spanned back generations- it was practically inborn. Thorin didn't hate elves, but that didn't mean he liked them- well, there were a few exceptions. After meeting the elf girl, the prince actually began to question if elves were as bad as they were portrayed to be.

Thranduil gracefully strode forward, an armed escort close behind, until he stood before King Thrór. He inclined his head respectfully. The two kings began to exchange greetings, but Thorin barely heard them. He managed to offer a nod in greeting as his grandfather introduced each of them, but his gaze remained riveted on a particular elf standing at Thranduil's side. It was only when the elf king turned to him to introduce him that he realized that it was who he thought it was.

Thranduil gestured to his side. "This is my brother, Leyandril."

Thorin straightened slightly in surprise. His brother? Then that meant that the elf girl was niece to King Thranduil. He saw Leyandril's gaze shift to the young dwarf prince briefly to offer a slight nod in greeting, perhaps acknowledging that he knew he was there, before looking back to the two kings. Thorin definitely was going to have more than a few questions to ask him later.

* * *

In truth, Mirkwood was not that far from the Lonely Mountain. But, as an honored guest, Thranduil and his escort were invited to spend one night in their halls, enjoying the hospitality of the dwarves. Any sort of positive interaction between the two races was instrumental in further solidifying their alliance.

Thorin walked down one of the long halls that carved their way through the mountain, intending to head to his room. He wished to seek out Leyandril and question him, but didn't. He didn't wish to intrude upon the king by mistake. But, by either some twist of fate or sheer luck, as the prince rounded a corner, he almost bumped into Leyandril.

Instantly, a friendly smile was on the elder elf's face. "Prince Thorin. I had hoped to run into you, though not so literally."

Thorin chuckled. "It's quite alright. I had been hoping to speak with you as well."

"I thought as much. I saw the look upon your face when King Thranduil introduced me as his brother. You must have many questions," he smiled.

"Only a few."

It was Leyandril's turn to laugh. "Well, any questions you have, I would be more than willing to answer."

Thorin considered it for a time, deciding which question demanded an answer first and foremost.

The blond haired elf's smile widened slightly. "Come now. Ask me what I know you are dying to have an answer to," he said, his tone playful.

Thorin's expression grew mildly somber. "How is she?" he asked finally.

Leyandril's expression softened, the smile remaining on his face. "She is well. We receive letters from her each week," he told him.

The dwarf prince nodded. "And her magic?"

Leyandril visibly hesitated, the smile fading. After a brief moment, he sighed and crossed his arms across his lean chest. "From what I discerned from her letters, they got her there just in time. Her powers developed so rapidly that she couldn't control them at first. Luckily, Lady Galadriel was able to suppress them long enough for her to get some training. She has also mentioned that as she has stayed there, new powers have arisen. She is presently concentrating on learning to control them," the male elf informed him.

Thorin looked to the other with an interest. "New powers? Like what?"

Leyandril shrugged, still keeping his arms crossed. "She has not specified." All at once, the smile was back on his face. "Perhaps you can ask her yourself the next time you see her." Thorin looked at him, his expression perplexed. "She told me about your arrangement. I must say, I understand why you did it. But you do realize, by not exchanging names, you made it just that much more difficult to reconnect in the future."

"We both knew that when we agreed to it. Besides," a light smile played on Thorin's lips, "it appears that our lives are more intertwined than we previously realized."

"Indeed." Leyandril glanced around briefly. "Would you mind showing me back to my room? I seem to have lost my way. All these halls look the same."

Thorin chuckled and gestured down the hall. "Of course. Right this way."

* * *

A/N: Sorry if this chapter was boring. I just wanted to show a little bit of the interaction between Thorin and his siblings. In addition, I also wanted to have Thorin learn a little more about Arinya. I promise future chapters will be less dull….hopefully.

As always, thanks for the reviews!


	22. Light Within the Darkness

As with every night, as soon as Arinya's head hit her pillow, her mind became plagued by vivid visions of past, present, and future. This night, though, it was different. This time, it was as if she was actually there, watching events unfold before her.

Arinya stood within a grand bedroom. She was within the dwarven fortress that she had witnessed repeatedly in her visions when she saw the dwarf prince. As she looked around, she saw a group of people gathered around a four poster bed. Among the group was the dwarf prince, his brother, young sister, grandfather, and another man that Arinya guessed to be his father. Lying in the bed was a dwarven woman.

Arinya took a few steps closer until she stood just behind the dwarves' shoulders. It was a strange sensation. She kept waiting for them to turn and look at her, but they did nothing of the sort. They gave no inclination that they even knew she was there.

The woman in the bed was deathly pale, all the color drained from her face. Her breathing was shallow and strained. As Arinya looked at her, she could tell one thing: she was dying.

The old king gently clapped his hand on his son's shoulder, a gesture of comfort and empathy. The other didn't turn away from his wife's face. Choosing to give him some space, the king turned and left the room. Arinya watched the door shut quietly behind him before back to the group in front of her. The grief was etched onto their faces. She didn't have much time left.

Suddenly, everything became a blur. She saw the little girl crying, weeping for her mother to open her eyes, to not leave. She saw the father lean forward and plant a loving kiss on the woman's forehead before he reached up a hand and closed her eyes. She saw the older boy scoop up his little sister into his arms. His face was somber, showing no emotion. Arinya understood. He had to be strong for his siblings. The elf girl looked back to the father, who had fallen to his knees and was weeping at his wife's bedside. She knew this was hard, but he wasn't even bothering to help his children. This was tough on them as well, but he was leaving his eldest son to care for them.

Arinya looked back to the older brother. He still held his young sister tightly in his arms. The little girl was wailing and crying as she struggled to run back to her mother. The eldest turned to his younger brother. The boy was stiff, as if he couldn't comprehend what was happening. The elder boy placed a hand on his small shoulder, guiding him towards the door. He was saying something, comforting words perhaps? For some reason, Arinya couldn't hear anything. She felt her heart wrenching in her chest at the sad scene. As the siblings walked past her, the elf girl couldn't help but have her heart ache. The older brother's face was grim, but his eyes- those clear blue eyes- were swimming with grief and sadness, but he dared not show it on his face. Then, the moment passed and he walked past Arinya.

Suddenly, the area began to shift and change. A light blazes high above, causing Arinya to raise her hand to shield her eyes. When the intensity finally began to fade, the elf slowly lowered her hand to her side and took in her surroundings. She knew exactly where she was. She was in the city of Dale. Crowds of people walked the streets, shopping and going about their daily routine. A strong breeze blew through the town, rustling the flowers kept in flowerboxes outside people's windows. Children laughed joyously as they flew their kites through the clear blue sky, enjoying the fact that the wind allowed them to fly their kites. Arinya looked up, shielding her eyes against the sun, to look closer at the kites as the sailed on the breeze. Each one was brightly colored and of a unique design. Arinya immediately chose her favorite as a long red dragon kite with golden eyes.

The elf girl looked around. Nothing appeared to be happening in town. So why was she seeing it? What made this day so important that she would witness it in one of her visions? It appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary day- like every other day that these people experienced throughout the week. She continued to cast her gaze about for anything significant or important, but came up empty handed. Nothing was happening.

Her green eyes shifted past the city of Dale. Through gaps in between and above the buildings of the city of man she could clearly see the Lonely Mountain, towering over everything within leagues. She had seen that very mountain several times, anytime she came into town with her mother. It had become a part of the landscape, a part of the land that she called home. In truth, she regarded the entirety of Erebor, including the city of Dale and the surrounding forest, as her home. Arinya had grown up within the shadow of the mountain, lived in the lush green forests, and traveled repeatedly to Dale. All of it had become her home above anywhere else.

Arinya tucked a stray lock of reddish brown hair behind her ear as the wind picked up a little. She cast one more look up at the sailing kites before she directed her attention downward and began to walk through the street. She couldn't get used to the sensation of walking among people and not having them notice her. It was as if she was a ghost- a phantom. The elf had to repeatedly step out of the way as people going about their daily routine nearly walked into her. Arinya wasn't entirely certain what would happen if she didn't move out of the way. Perhaps they would walk right through her as if she really was a ghost. Or perhaps they would actually bump into her. In the end, Arinya decided she wasn't keen to find out. It was simply easier to move out of the way.

Arinya continued walked down the cobblestone streets, dodging passerby. Her green eyes skimmed over everything, trying to discern what made this day important. She must have wandered around the entirety of Dale. Glancing up at the sky, Arinya saw that the sun was starting its descent. It must be just a little after noon.

The elf girl jumped in surprise as a little girl ran in front of her, nearly crashing into her. The girl was obviously poor, perhaps a child of one of the farmers in the area. She chased after several other children, possibly friends of hers, as they played. In one small hand, she clutched a worn, dirtied rag doll. Upon closer inspection, Arinya noticed that the doll had long, dark hair, just like the girl. She knew that it was a custom in certain areas of middle earth to make a doll using the child's own hair or even horse hair. Arinya briefly wondered if that was the case with this girl's doll.

As the girl ran past her head turned slightly to the side. Arinya wondered for a moment if she actually saw her, but threw it away a second later. The girl's eyes were distant, actually looking through Arinya. After another few seconds, the girl returned her gaze forward once more and continued after the other children. The elf girl watched the girl run until she disappeared into the crowded streets.

The brunette turned her attention forward once more. Her search had led her to the north gates of Dale, the ones closest to the Lonely Mountain. She was almost literally in the shadow of the mountain. She had spent what seemed to be hours searching the town, trying to find out what was so important that she would witness this day in one of her visions. But there was nothing. Maybe nothing would happen. Maybe instead of this being one of her visions, it was actually a dream. It was her mind offering something to soothe her homesickness.

Arinya's thoughts were interrupted as a sudden gust of wind roared through the town. She gripped her clothes and shielded her face as her hair whipped around her. Where did that come from? Arinya straightened up, casting a look around. The entirety of Dale seemed to be at a momentary standstill, everyone clearly in a similar stunned state. The elf girl looked out past the city to the surrounding forest. She was shocked when she saw the trees cracking and waning under an intense wind. What kind of wind was this? She could actually see the next gust coming. The brunette had just enough time to brace herself before the next gust of wind blasted through Dale. Women hurriedly held their skirts down. Merchants desperately grasped their wares to prevent them from being blown away. What was happening? It was like a hurricane was sweeping over the land.

Suddenly, a loud shout rose over the roar of the wind from the direction of the Lonely Mountain. "Dragon!" The voice shouted. Arinya turned her head in the direction the voice had come from. It seemed to have come from the ramparts, the volume of the shout becoming amplified as it echoed within the interior of the mountain.

As if from cue, Arinya heard a thunderous banging, spaced at equal intervals. Boom. Boom. Boom. The elf girl paled, feeling her heart drop. They were the beating of wings- massive wings. Suddenly, a deafening roar split the sky. Arinya's gaze shot up into the sky to search for the dragon, but looked up just in time to see its tail disappear over the peak of one of the houses as it flew over Dale. An explosion seemed to rock the very earth from somewhere else in the city. Screams filled the air from the terrified citizens. People ran every which way, unsure of which way to run. Guards fired arrows at the massive beast, but seemed to do nothing more than irritate it, as a fly would pester a giant.

Arinya ducked behind buildings for shelter- more as instinct than necessity. She could feel the intense heat as the flames engulfed the city. Smoke billowed out of windows and into the sky. Rubble from destroyed buildings littered the streets. The brunette cast her gaze to the sky, searching for the dragon. She could never seem to look directly at it. Anytime it flew overhead and she tried to look at it, her vision would skip for just a moment so that all she saw was a wingtip, a tail, or a leg. She couldn't understand why it was happening- why she couldn't see the entirety of this fire drake.

Suddenly, the building that Arinya was taking shelter against practically exploded as the dragon made another pass overhead, sending a jet of bright orange fire at the structure. The elf girl threw herself out of the way to avoid a shower of rubble from the destroyed building. She threw her arms over her head to shield it and squeezed her eyes shut to prevent any dust or dirt from getting into it.

But when Arinya hit the ground, it wasn't the cobblestone streets of Dale. There were no flames. There was no smoke, no intense heat. Arinya peaked open one of her eyes. She wasn't even outside anymore. Right now, she was laying on the stone floor in the interior of the Lonely Mountain. The brunette could still hear her rapid heartbeat in her ears, the adrenaline still roaring through her veins. Taking a few shaky breaths, the elf girl hurriedly rose to her feet and instantly realized she wasn't alone.

She stood near the main gate into the Lonely Mountain. Facing the door was at least three battalions of dwarven soldiers. Spears, pikes, and phalanxes were pointed defensively at the closed door. Archers held their short bows drawn with an arrow notched and ready. Others had swords and axes clutched in their calloused hands, holding them with a white knuckle grip. Arinya walked along their ranks, looking at their faces. They were petrified, their eyes wide and their faces pale. A loud bang followed by a thunderous roar startled Arinya, causing her to jump back. The dragon was trying to enter the mountain.

"Hold your ground!" someone shouted from the very front. Arinya's eyebrows furrowed as she strode towards the front ranks. Normally she would have thought the voice belonged to a nameless dwarven captain, but this was different. She knew that voice.

The brunette rounded the front soldiers and looked to see the origin of the voice. It was the dwarf prince, the one she had seen so many times in her visions. He stood braced alongside his men, sword and shield in hand as he stood in a defensive stance, readying himself for the dragon's inevitable breach of the gate. His blue eyes were wild and fierce, his teeth gritted as he prepared himself. Arinya saw his grip tightening on the hilt of his blade. "Hold your ground!" he shouted again to the soldiers. The elf girl cast a look at the other dwarves. They all looked ready to drop their weapons and run. Perhaps their prince's encouragement was one of the few things keeping them in place. The fear was etched into their faces. She looked back to the dark haired prince. But there was no fear in his face. No. There was something else. A defiance. A deep set stubbornness. A fire. He stood facing this fiery terror with no fear, his courage and valor rooting him in place. Arinya felt something upon seeing this- a kind of admiration or respect.

She didn't have long to take in anything more before the gate exploded off of its hinges. An eruption of dragon fire flew through the now wide open entry way. Dwarven soldiers were incinerated upon contact, leaving nothing more than a bit of ash and charred weapons. Arinya clasped a hand over her mouth and nose as she ducked behind a nearby pillar. The smell of burning flesh was so strong. It was making her nauseous. A loud roar rose over the crackle of flames and the screams of the injured and dying. Thunderous footsteps crashed down onto the stone floor at the dragon entered the mountain. Arinya cast a look over just in time to see the dwarf prince laying on the ground, among the bodies of his men. Was he….? She didn't need to finish that thought as she saw him begin to move, raising himself onto an elbow. Suddenly, the dragon was on top of him, offering another ear shattering roar. Its leg raised above the fallen prince, poised to take another step. Then, with terrifying suddenness, its massive clawed paw crashed down upon him.

Arinya stood stone still for what seemed like an eternity. He…he was dead. The elf girl took a few stunned steps forward, determined to see if he really was gone, but didn't get the chance.

As she took her first steps, the vision shifted and changed. Now the screams, heat, and roars of the ensuing battle were farther away. Her green eyes cast about, scanning her surroundings. She was in the throne room, standing beside the grand throne. Why was she here? She needed to get back to the gate. She needed to see if the dwarf prince was still alive. She needed to know. The elf girl turned to begin heading down the walkway towards the main gate but stopped short.

Rushing towards her, casting fearful glances over his shoulder, was the dwarf king. What was he doing? Arinya watched as he ran past her and straight to his throne. He reached up trembling hands to a brilliant jewel that was mounted to the head of his throne. Arinya was momentarily mesmerized by its beauty, its depths mirroring an array of different colors and shades. It even seemed to harbor a glow emitting from within. The old king clutched the jewel close to his chest, apparently finding momentary comfort in its presence. With one more terrified glance towards the location of the main gate, the dwarf king raced in the opposite direction, still holding the jewel close.

Arinya watched him flee with a slack jawed expression. Was he abandoning his people? All to save a precious a jewel? From her visions, Arinya knew that the old king had been sick for a long time now-having his grandson try to care for him behind the scenes, trying to keep the illness hidden from the general public. But she didn't think he would be so absorbed in his wealth that he would abandon his home, his people, and his family to the wrath of the dragon. As she watched him flee, the elf girl couldn't help but wonder if he actually was.

Her head turned in the direction of the gate. The roars of the dragon were getting closer. It was heading right for her. Taking a deep breath, Arinya started to head towards main gate. She needed to see if the dwarf prince was still alive. Something inside her demanded to know. But before she could take a single step, the vision ended.


	23. What is and Shall Never Be

Arinya awoke with a start, like she normally did after her nightmarish visions. This one was different, though. Unlike her other visions, which she normally witnessed once, the vision of the fire drake attacking Erebor had been reoccurring every night for the past month. Seeing Dale and the surrounding forest in flames and the Lonely Mountain burning was ingrained in her memory by now. It left her visibly shaken every time she saw it. Anytime she witnessed the vision, it was as if she couldn't remember that she had already seen it hundreds of times before.

Arinya took deep calming breaths to soothe her racing heart. She reached up a hand and wiped the cold sweat from her forehead. When she felt sufficiently calm, she threw back the covers of her bed and strode over to her desk. She grabbed her journal, letting it fall open to the first blank page. Her hand reached over and grabbed her quill, dipped it in the inkwell, and brought it to the page. She started with the date and then began to write a detailed account of the visions she had seen that night. There were a few others, minor ones that held no meaning to Arinya and would research later. Still, she wrote them down, determined to keep a steady record.

Next, she began to write about the scene she had witnessed where the dwarf prince's mother had died. Arinya thought it was safe to assume that this was a past event. In previous visions where she glimpsed the future his little sister and brother they had been older. In this one, though, they were younger. It appeared to have happened about six years ago, making the little girl around four years old when her mother died. Arinya paused in her writing. No one should lose their mother that soon in life.

Arinya swept her hair out of her eyes and sighed. She tried to clear her mind of the depressing thoughts, but it didn't help that her next vision was just as bad. Seeing her home in flames, seeing people being incinerated and burned alive, it wasn't exactly something to be treasured. Arinya looked down at her hand clutching the quill. It was shaking, splattering tiny droplets of black onto the page.

Slowly, Arinya set the quill into the inkwell. Reaching with her other hand, she clasped it tightly, trying to still the trembling. She closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind of the images that threatened to drown her.

When she had first witnessed this vision, it had deeply disturbed her. But like all her visions, she tried to keep a degree of distance between herself and the reality of what she was witnessing. It was the only way that she felt she could keep her sanity. Seeing thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of people die throughout the years in her visions tended to have that effect. But this was more personal. This was her home that was burning. For all she knew, Arinya could have seen people dying that she knew, people she bought things from or simply passed on the street. And then there was the dwarf prince.

Every time she saw it, it was the same. The dragon entered the mountain after breaking through the main gate, its paw rose over the fallen prince, and then came down with an almost unbelievable amount of force. She would try to go to him, to check and see if he really was dead, but her vision would always change before she ever got the chance. Arinya couldn't deny that she felt something for the prince. She had watched him grow for several years now- caring for his family as he learned about the world. It pained her to know that he would die….

Swiftly, Arinya rose to her feet. Perhaps there was a way she could know for sure. She reached onto the back of her chair and grabbed her light green cloak. She slung it around her shoulders, covering her pure white dress.

Growing up, Arinya had always worn pants and a tunic. But upon coming to Lothlorien, it had become commonplace for her to dress in beautiful garments and dresses such as this one. Arinya didn't hate dresses. It just took a little getting used to. Still, though, she missed the clothes she used to wear.

Slipping out of her room in bare feet, the elf girl padded down the stairs that would their way around the tree in which her room rested. There was almost no sound in the wood this night, save the light chirping of frogs on the edges of the small creeks and rivers that wound their way through the land. As Arinya descended the stairs, she cast her green gaze around the surrounding area. She glimpsed one of the elven hunters that patrolled the woods, warding it against those with malevolent intentions. They moved in between the trees like ghosts, almost gliding across the earth, silent and ethereal. It was easy to not notice their presence entirely unless you knew what to look for.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Arinya quickly began striding across the fall leaf covered grass towards the heart of the wood. There was a particular destination that she had in mind. It was one of the few things that may be able to help her.

After about a few minutes of walking, Arinya descended a flight of stairs. Already she could hear the sound of water rushing. When she reached the bottom, the elf girl found herself staring at her intended destination: the Mirror of Galadriel.

She was about to stride forward- to seize up the pitcher, fill it with water, pour it into the mirror, and gaze into it- but stopped. Perhaps she shouldn't. It was called the Mirror of Galadriel for a reason. The elf witch was the only one who used it. And anytime someone else used it, it was always under her supervision. Yes. Maybe she should turn back. But still, Arinya didn't move. Questions still nagged at her mind as she stared at the Mirror, as if it would tell her what she should do.

"You are troubled."

Caught by surprise, Arinya whirled around. Instantly, she was greeted by the fair face of Galadriel herself. The elf girl hadn't even heard her walk up, yet the elf witch stood no more than a few feet away from her. Galadriel's face was impassive as she regarded her young student, the one she had looked after and taught for all these years. When she had spoken, she had said it more as a statement of fact than a question. Arinya knew that Galadriel was probably reading her mind right now. At first, she didn't like the thought of someone digging through her mind, but, to a certain degree, she had gotten used to it.

The brunette nodded, turning back to face the Mirror once again. "Yes, my lady," she answered.

Galadriel silently strode gracefully past Arinya as she walked over to a small pool of water. Her long, pale fingers gripped the handle of a silver pitcher resting at the water's edge and dipped it into the clear water. "One of your visions. It has been plaguing your thoughts of late," she said, once again more as a statement of fact rather than a question. She drew the now full pitcher out of the cool waters and slowly strode to the edge of the Mirror.

Once again, Arinya nodded. "Yes, my lady. For a month now." Her brows furrowed. "It was Erebor. It was…burning. A dragon- a fire drake came and attacked. It…it was as if I was actually there, seeing it all happen with my own eyes." Arinya stopped and cleared her throat. Her voice was starting to waiver as the images entered her mind once more.

Galadriel lifted the pitcher into the air and began to tip it until the water began to pour into the Mirror. Arinya walked to the edge of the Mirror to join her, gazing down into the bowl as it slowly filled with water. Already, the elf girl could see lights dancing in the water as images fought to come into focus. When she had finished pouring, Galadriel set the pitcher back beside the pool of water before returning to Arinya's side, looking into the water along with her.

Arinya's eyes were riveted on the Mirror as the images began to shift and change. It showed the Lonely Mountain, then Dale, then the entirety of Erebor. In the next moment, it all was engulfed in flames as the fire drake arrived and began its assault upon the land. People tried to run but were instantaneously incinerated by the dragon's fire. Arinya cringed as she relived the horrific scene once more, but she refused to look away.

Suddenly, the imaged changed. Now, the Mirror showed the interior of the Lonely Mountain. They were at the main gate, standing alongside the dwarven soldiers as they readied themselves for the dragon's inevitable entrance into their home. Arinya's vivid green gaze strayed to one dwarf in particular: the dwarf prince. She once again witnessed that look of utter defiance, showing no fear, as he readied himself to face this winged beast.

Arinya's eyes didn't stray from his face. "Who is he?" she asked.

Galadriel was silent for a moment before she answered. "Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, King Under the Mountain and King of Durin's Folk." The blond elf woman's hard gaze shifted to Arinya. "He has been in your thoughts for many years now," she observed.

The brunette nodded in response. She was inwardly glad that she now had a name to put to the face. So his name was Thorin. "I do not understand why. I have never met or seen him before in my life, until my visions began," she told her. Arinya glanced up at Galadriel to see that her eyes were closed. Was she reading her mind or looking into the future?

A moment later, the elf witch's eyes opened as she looked right at the brunette. "His future is intertwined with your own, though I cannot determine how or when," Galadriel said.

Arinya looked back to the Mirror, looking at Thorin, as if she was suddenly seeing him in a whole new light. His future and hers were intertwined? How was that possible? Why would her future be intertwined with that of a dwarven prince? It didn't make any sense.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the image of the Mirror shifted once again. It changed from the interior of the Lonely Mountain to the landscape outside. Arinya could only assume that the scene she saw was the aftermath of the dragon's attack. Dale was cut off at the knees, many of its buildings and walls reduced to rubble. Smoke billowed into the sky from the fires that still had yet to be extinguished. Wails and screams of anguish rose in the air as people mourned the loss of their homes, friends, family, and lamented over the death surrounding them. From the direction of the mountain, Arinya saw hordes of dwarves pouring out of the shattered main gate. Smoke poured through the open doorway and into the sky. Ash rained down upon the area from the burning forest nearby, falling like snow upon the land.

"I thought it was a dream the first time I saw it," Arinya began, her voice oddly quiet. "I have never witnessed a vision more than once. So I just brushed it off as nothing more than a bad dream-a nightmare. But now…I am not so sure." Her green gaze remained focused upon the water. "They must be warned."

"No."

Arinya's gaze snapped up to Galadriel, not bothering to hide the surprise from her features. "Why?"

"We do not yet know if everything that you see has or will come to pass. If you travel to Erebor to warn them about an impending dragon attack, even though you have no idea when it will occur, what will happen if the attack never comes? The dwarves may think that the elves were playing a cruel trick on them and you could singlehandedly shatter the already fragile trust between the elves and the dwarves," Galadriel explained to her.

The elf girl pursed her lips. She hadn't considered that. Her eyes darted down to the water, which still contained the images of the ruined land around the Lonely Mountain. "But what if it does happen? What if the dragon does come? Am I not obligated to warn them for what is to come?"

"You have no obligation to them."

Arinya looked to the elf witch. "So I should just abandon them to their fate?"

"Even if the drake comes, and you had warned the inhabitants of Erebor of its coming, what would you expect them to do in order to ready themselves for such an onslaught?" Galadriel asked. She began to slowly circle the Mirror, her bare feet crunched on the dried leaves and the green grass.

The brunette rested her hands on the edge of the Mirror, continuing to gaze into its watery depths. "I am not sure. But if my warning saves even one life that would have been lost if I hadn't, then it is worth it."

"Those who see the future must not interfere or meddle, lest they set into motion the very events they seek to prevent," Galadriel said, her voice long and slow as she continued to circle the Mirror.

"But Lady Galadriel," Arinya looked up to her mentor. "With all due respect, I do not see how by going to warn them of the fire drakes coming would provoke it to attack in the first place."

"It is not our place to question what leads certain events to pass. I have seen others who have thought in a similar way as you do. They gazed into their own future and saw things that they wished to avoid. But, by trying to prevent them, they ensured that these events would come to pass. Some have even gone mad trying to alter the course of events that lead up their inevitable fate," the blond elf told her.

"But I cannot abandon them. I will not," Arinya said firmly. She pushed away from the Mirror and began to head towards the stairs. "I will leave in the morning."

"Arinya." The elf girl stopped at the foot of the stairs. She did not turn around, instead looking at Galadriel over her shoulder. "If you do this, then you will change your own future as well."

The brunette directed her gaze forward to the stairs and began to ascend them. "Then let it be changed."

A/N: Sorry it took so long to update. I was getting out of the story. I wanted desperately to keep writing but it was starting to feel like a chore. If I write when I feel like that, then the story and writing quality really goes downhill fast. Once I get the hobbit and see it again, my interest will probably pick up again and I will start updating more once again. Fingers crossed!

Once again, thank you to all my faithful reviewers who give comments to my story all the time. It really encourages me to keep going, so thank you! And as always, welcome to any new favorites and followers!


	24. Homecoming

A/N: I'm going to start putting the year at the head of my chapters because after the fall of Erebor, we literally have 171 years to cover before the beginning of the hobbit. Obviously, I'm not going to write about all 171 years, so I'm going to be skipping around a lot. So, to help you keep it straight, I'm going to start putting the year at the head of each chapter. And just an fyi, if I don't put the year at the head of the chapter, just assume that that chapter took place in the same year as the previous chapter.

If you would like any more info posted at the head of the chapter to further help you in reading this story, feel free to give me suggestions. I'm also open to any advice or suggestions you may have concerning what you would like to see happen in future chapters (besides Thorin and Arinya finally reuniting). I literally have a two page timeline all written out in a notebook for this gist of what is going to happen, but if there is anything else you would like to see, feel free to let me know. Thanks for your input and enjoy!

TA 2770

After a few days of hard riding, Arinya finally arrived within Dale. She had borrowed one of the many white stallions from the stables in Lothlorien, reserved for the upper class elves and their escorts for when they travel. Arinya had instantly taken a liking to one in particular named Denali, a powerful built, spirited young stallion with a shiny white coat and a mane tinted a light shade of blue.

Arinya leaned down a patted the horse's neck lovingly. Through this brief contact, she used her unique ability to touch the animal's mind, offering thanks and expressing her gratefulness. Denali snorted in response, seeming to understand. From her years of training, communing with animals seemed to come the easiest to her. It required almost no training. It came naturally- almost instinctually- like she had been doing it all her life.

The elf woman straightened up in the saddle and directed her gaze forward. She had arrived in Dale a few hours ago. It was no secret that the citizens of Dale were not accustomed to seeing an elf riding through their cobblestone streets. Many of them paused in their daily routines to stare. Doing her best to pretend she didn't notice, Arinya kept her gaze direct forward as she continued down the street.

The first thing she had done upon arriving in Dale was to meet with the King of Dale and warn him of the dragon's coming. As she had anticipated, he had been very skeptical and seemed inclined to not believe her. To be honest, she didn't blame him. There was no evidence that the dragon was coming or when it would- at least, if it came at all. All the King had was her word. But, after a few hours of debate, the King of Dale finally agreed to at least take some precautions against a dragon attack.

Arinya uttered a sigh. One down. One to go. She directed her gaze to the sky, looking at the Lonely Mountain as it loomed over the city of men. That was her next destination. To be honest, Arinya felt rather nervous. It was one thing to deal with men and another to deal with the dwarves. On paper, the dwarves and elves were allies, but that didn't mean that they trusted each other. She had no guarantee that King Thrór would even grant her an audience, much less heed her word.

But that was not the only reason Arinya was nervous. Her hand strayed up to her neck and wrapped around the dwarven ring that rested there. Arinya had more than once wondered if perhaps today was the day that they would finally meet again. She wondered what they would say to each other if they met again. Her mind would scramble for potential conversation topics but she always found herself stopping. What were the chances of them finding each other anyway? There were thousands of dwarves living within the Lonely Mountain. What were the chances that she and the dwarf boy would meet each other in the short time within the mountain when she was going to and from meeting with the dwarven king? He would be older now, just as she was. He probably had a job or profession of some sort that he attended to during the day. He could be a miner or some sort of craftsman as many dwarves were. When she came, he could be busy doing other things so he wouldn't even know of her coming.

Arinya sighed once again. As it had been to begin with, it was now up to fate to decide if they would meet again. The elf girl pulled the ring from the hem of her shirt and let it rest clearly upon her chest. That way, it would be easier for him to spot if they did happen upon one another. Letting her green eyes examine the ring for a moment longer, Arinya soon directed her gaze upward once more as she weaved her way through the crowded streets.

The brunette glanced to the sky as she felt a light, dry breeze blow across her skin. Ever since she had entered Dale, her gaze had continually been drawn skyward, searching for the kites that she had seen in her vision that would signal that day of the dragon's arrival. When she looked, Arinya saw several but a few were missing. Most notable among them was the red dragon kite. The elf woman allowed herself a sigh of relief. It was not this day that the dragon would come then.

The elf woman glanced to her right, to the rolling hills covered in a thick pine forest- the forest in which she had grown up. And somewhere in that forest, lay her old home. Her family had moved out long ago. When Arandil had joined the Greenwood army, her parents had no more reason to stay. Both of their children were gone and it didn't make sense for Leyandril to continue his commute to Greenwood and back. So, Arinya's parents packed up and moved to the heart of Mirkwood to live among the other elves. Eretria was welcomed with open arms, being because she was the wife of Leyandril. By now living in Mirkwood, they could at least continue to see one of their children and have to travel a shorter distance to visit the other. Besides, now Leyandril could devote more time to training the archers.

Arinya continued to gaze out in the direction of the widespread wood. She wondered if her home was still there. What happened after they moved out? Did they just leave it empty? What did they take with them? After they moved, did someone else move in after them? Was there another family living there now? Arinya directed her green gaze forward once more. After she had finished delivering her warning to the dwarven king, she would probably pass by her old home, just because she was feeling nostalgic.

That brought her mind back to a certain thought she had before she had arrived in Dale. Would she check into the inn in Dale or simply ride right back to Lothlorien? It felt strange to come and warn them and then leave, as if she was saying "I've done all I can. You're on your own now." But if she did stay, how long would that last. The dragon may not show itself for years to come. Arinya couldn't stay in the inn waiting for it to arrive for all that time. But yet, once again, it felt wrong for her to just leave. She was undecided as to what her course of action would be. Perhaps she would have a clearer answer in her mind after she finished her job of warning King Thrór.

Arinya reached up a hand and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ears. Ever since she had begun living in Lothlorien, Arinya had always had her hair down and worn elegant dresses. Now, though, it was as if she had stepped back to when she was a young girl. Her hair was drawn back into her once typical long braid. She wore light brown traveling pants tucked into durable boots and a maroon tunic with elegant swirls embroidering the fabric. A light forest cloak was tied securely around her shoulders with the hood drawn up to hide her face in its shadow.

Letting her hand fall back down, Arinya let wrapped her hand back around Denali's reins, making sure to take a firm grasp of his mane as well. After a few minutes of weaving through crowded cobblestone streets, Arinya finally passed through the north gate of Dale. Spurring on Denali, she cantered towards the main gate to the Lonely Mountain. The elf woman stared up in wonder as she rode closer and closer to the mountain. From the massive reinforced wrought iron gate to the towering dwarven statues on either side of the path to the gate. Arinya had never been this close to the mountain before, let alone entered inside.

When she was before the gates, Arinya pulled back on the reins. Denali threw his head back, his blue mane flying, letting out a shrill whinny as his hooves dug into the loose rock, skidding to a stop. Arinya's hands tightened on the reins as she examined the massive gate before her. It was closed. How was she supposed to get in?

"Hello down there!" a voice called from somewhere above. Instantly, the elf woman's green eyes shifted upwards, trying to find the source of the voice. She identified it as a dwarven guard standing upon the ramparts above the gate, carved into the rock. "State your business!" he called.

"I request an audience with the King Under the Mountain! I must speak with him right away!" Arinya called back up to him.

This seemed to surprise him. He turned to one of the nearby soldiers on the ramparts beside him, exchanging a few words with him that Arinya could not hear. A moment later, the guard turned back to looking back at the elf woman below. The other dwarven soldier hurried off and out of Arinya's sight.

"What business does a lone elf have with the King?" he asked, his voice echoing down from the ramparts.

Arinya straightened in her saddle. "That is for King Thrór's ears, and his alone," she answered firmly.

As he had done before, the guard exchanged a few hurried words with a few nearby soldiers. Then, also as it had happened before, the soldiers ran out of sight while the guard looked back to Arinya.

"We will allow you inside, but you must wait to see if the King will grant you an audience. Is that understood?"

Arinya nodded, but instantly wondered if the dwarf could even see if from the confines of her cloak. "Yes," she called up to him.

"Then welcome to Erebor, my lady."


	25. The Lonely Mountain

The gate opened with a loud groan of iron against rock. Gears turned as they pulled on chains to open the massive double doors. Denali snorted and tossed his head, clearly upset by the loud noise. Arinya lightly placed her hand onto his neck in a comforting gesture, using just a touch of magic to calm him. She whispered soothingly to him in elvish. This seemed to work because Denali ceased his fidgeting and stood stone still, intent on every word that she had to say.

A moment later the doors finished opening and the elf woman spurred her steed through the now open doorway. The sound of Denali's hooves rang out strangely loud as they landed upon the stone. Arinya cast her green gaze around as she entered, in utter awe of the craftsmanship and architectural skills of the dwarves. They had quite literally hollowed out the mountain, carving homes and shops from the rock itself. Even from where she stood, Arinya could see bridges crisscrossing over gaps that plunged down several levels, seeming to have no end. It was true that Arinya had seen much of the interior of the Lonely Mountain in her nightly visions, but this was different. And yet, at the same time, it was also the same. It was rather a strange sensation to know she had seen all of this before and yet had never actually been to Erebor itself before.

After only a few mere steps inside the door, four dwarven guards, all clutching spears in their hands, stood in front of Arinya, barring her path forward. Among the four of them, one of the guards stepped forward. "You are to wait here until we receive word that King Thrór has granted you an audience," he said.

Arinya nodded in response. Swinging one leg over the side of her saddle, the elf woman dismounted her steed. Denali let out a small snort but otherwise stood still. Nonetheless, the brunette let her hand rest upon the side of his neck, offering him some form of reassurance. She knew that he was uncomfortable. He was in a strange place, with new smells, sounds, and sights, in the company of creatures he had probably never seen before.

So, for at least the next twenty minutes, Arinya waited patiently to hear word about whether she would be granted an audience before the King Under the Mountain. She continued to look around at the wonder of Erebor, admiring every detail- from the paintings of the Lonely Mountain and previous kings hanging along the stone walls to the dwarves themselves and the diversity in appearances that she witnessed among them. As each of them passed her, Arinya briefly wondered if one of them was the dwarf boy that she had once known so long ago. But so far, none that passed her by seemed to be the one she was searching for. Still, Arinya kept her eyes open. She had at least an idea of what he would look like- black hair and bright blue eyes. Those were the defining features that may help her to spot him if they did happen upon one another.

When the twenty minutes was up, a dwarven soldier appeared from the large hall directly before them. He went straight to the dwarf who had spoken to Arinya before, whispered a few hurried words to him, before hurrying of once again in a different direction than he had come. From the darkness of her hood, Arinya watched the other dwarves, waiting for them to say something.

The lead guardsman turned to her, his grasp tightening ever so slightly on his spear. "You are to follow me. King Thrór as graciously agreed to hear your counsel."

Arinya nodded. She dropped her hand from Denali's neck to let it rest at her side. She started forward to follow the dwarf, but paused midstride. She cast a look back to Denali before looking back to the guards questioningly.

"Your horse will be here waiting for you when your meeting is complete," the dwarf told her gruffly.

Once again, the elf woman nodded. Satisfied, she began to follow the dwarven guard as he led the way to where King Thrór awaited her. The other three dwarven soldiers flanked her on each side, boxing her in. Arinya wondered if this was just to keep her from wandering. She knew that dwarves were very secretive. There were more than likely parts of this mountain that no non-dwarf had ever gazed upon. Arinya's guess was that they preferred to keep it that way.

It took them a good few minutes to finally reach the throne room. Inwardly, Arinya was glad that her hood was drawn up so that they didn't see her jaw slacken in wonder. She continued to follow the soldiers as they escorted her down the narrow pathway towards the throne. Snapping her attention back to the moment at hand, Arinya focused her gaze on the path before her. Sitting regally in his throne was King Thrór. Just beside him to his right side stood his son, Thráin. Steeling herself, the elf woman prepared herself to convey the warning she had traveled so far to deliver.

The lead dwarf stopped before his king, setting the bottom of his spear upon the marble floor with a clack. He bowed respectfully. "My Lord. This is the elf who wished for an audience with you," he said, speaking every word carefully.

King Thrór nodded his head in response. He raised a ringed finger and gestured for him to take his leave, his blue eyes never straying from Arinya. As the elf woman looked back at him from the confines of her cowl, she thought to herself how Thorin had the same sharp, bright blue eyes of his grandfather. The guards once again bowed low to their king before turning and walking back down the pathway out of the throne room, leaving Arinya alone with Thrór and Thráin.

"Now," began Thrór, his tone commanding, "Who are you and where do you hail from?"

Arinya reached up her hands and grasped the edges of her hood and pulled it back to reveal her face. "My name is Arinya. I have come from the Golden Wood of Lothlorien," she told them. She let her hands fall back to her sides as she regarded the two imposing dwarf men before her.

"Lothlorien? Are you here on behalf of Galadriel?" Thráin inquired as he crossed his muscular arms over his broad chest.

Arinya shook her head. "No. I have come here of my own volition," she answered.

"And why have you come here? What business was it that you traveled all this way to discuss?" King Thrór asked.

The brunette folded her hands in front of her. "I came to deliver a warning."

This caught the dwarf lords' attention. They seemed to straighten in their posture, an act of surprise. Thrór brought up his hand, letting his elbow rest upon the arm of his throne, as he lightly stroked his beard in a thoughtful gesture. "A warning you say?" Arinya nodded her confirmation. "A warning against what?"

Arinya took a deep breath, steeling herself for the long conversation that was to come. "A warning against a dragon. A dragon that has his sights set upon Erebor."

Thorin emerged from one of the many hallways that honeycombed their way through the entirety of the Lonely Mountain. His bright blue eyes skimmed passing dwarves, searching for someone in particular. Not seeing who he wished, the dwarf prince made his way towards the ramparts, where he knew he could find someone who could find who he was searching for.

After a few minutes of walking, Thorin reached the ramparts and quickly climbed the stairs. He was immediately greeted by a warm breeze that blew across the mountain, keeping the flags mounted upon the walls aloft. A few of the soldiers that stood guard upon the ramparts inclined their heads respectfully as their prince passed but did not move from their post.

In the next moment, Thorin spotted who he was searching for: Balin. He immediately strode over to the older dwarf, who was busy looking out over the expanse of land laid out before the mountain, his hands folded behind his back in content.

"Balin." The other dwarf turned at the sound of the dwarf prince's voice. "Do you know where my father is?"

"He is with the king," he answered.

Thorin nodded his thanks and started to turn to go to the throne room, where he knew he would find his grandfather.

"But you cannot see him right now," Balin quickly added. "He is in talks."

Thorin paused and turned back around to face Balin. "Talks? With who?"

Balin sighed and rested crossed his arms over his chest. "A lone elf appeared at our gates, requesting an audience with the king."

"An audience?" Thorin repeated. "Did they say why?"

Balin shook his head. "We asked but she said it was for King Thrór's ears alone," he told him.

This caught the young prince's attention. "She?"

Balin nodded. "Aye. It was a woman. I could tell you no more about her, though. She kept her hood drawn up around her face." His brow furrowed as he saw the look upon Thorin's face. "Is something wrong?"

The dark haired dwarf visibly snapped out of his thoughts. A friendly, reassuring smile appeared on his face. "No. Everything is quite alright. Thank you, Balin." The elder dwarf nodded in response. Then, Thorin turned on his heel and began to make his way back the way he had come, back towards the direction of the throne room. As he walked, a single question blazed in the forefront of his mind, demanding an answer:

Was it her?

Arinya strode angrily through the halls of Erebor, making her way to the main gate with a determined pace. Her face was contorted into a deep scowl, her brows pointed downward like lightning bolts. She had drawn her hood up once again, hiding the look of pure anger and frustration that was on her face.

The elf woman had expected King Thrór to be skeptical of her warning, but she hadn't expected such arrogance. When she told them of the dragon's coming, Thrór had practically laughed right in her face. He had pretty much said that a dragon stood little chance against the dwarves of Erebor. He was just so arrogant and proud! Arinya had seen them being massacred by the dragon when it invaded. Those who survived fled the mountain. She did her best to still her temper, remaining calm and trying to reason with the king and his son, who was of the same opinion as his father. Yet, it was here that Arinya witnessed firsthand the stubbornness that the dwarven people were known for. They would not budge on their opinion that they could fully handle and repel a dragon attack. In addition, they criticized her for coming all this way to warn them about something that may or may not happen.

It was an ever present danger that a dragon would develop an interest in Erebor and its riches. Dwarves and dragons were long and hated enemies. So a dragon attack was an ever present fear for dwarves so they made sure to take precautions. But yet, in her vision, the dragon had blown through all their defenses through sheer force. It was as if nothing could stand against it. And here was the king, who was supposed to do what was best for his people, shrugging off a warning of a dragon attack.

In the end, Arinya could no longer control her anger and pointed out how foolish the dwarven king was being in choosing to not heed her warning. How his own pride and arrogance was keeping him from protecting his people. Understandably, Thrór and Thráin did not like this. They "requested" that she immediately leave the mountain. Without another word, Arinya drew up her hood and began to make her way towards the gate. She could almost feel two dwarven soldiers behind her, trailing her to make sure that she did indeed leave immediately.

Arinya continued to fume. She had expected them to be skeptical. But to completely brush off her warning as if it were nothing was practically incomprehensible. The elf woman inwardly chastised herself for losing her temper. It was a foolish move on her part. She wasn't entirely sure what to do now. King Thrór had not heeded her warning, so should she stay the night and return the next morning to try and convince him? Arinya scoffed. He probably wouldn't even let her through the gates, let alone grant her an audience after how she behaved. So what was she to do now? Should she leave now that her warning was delivered or stay and try to convince the dwarven king of her warning?

As she walked, Arinya was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she didn't even realize who she had just walked past.

Thorin was nearly halfway to the throne room when he spotted her. She was cloaked and hooded, hiding any defining features of her face. She was shorter than any elf he had seen. With her hood drawn up the way it was, she may have even been mistaken for a dwarf, had it not been for the long, graceful strides that identified her as an elf. From the way she was walking, Thorin observed that she was angry about something. It seemed that her meeting with his grandfather had not gone the way she wished, whatever the topic was.

Thorin's blue eyes looked her over as her strides brought her ever closer. She wore simple traveling pants and a maroon tunic with brown boot and a cloak- each article bearing designs that marked them as elven in origin. The elf girl wore clothes similar to these.

Even with her hood drawn up around her head, the dwarf prince was able to spy a long, brunette braid resting on one shoulder. The elf girl always wore her hair in a braid.

But these were all trivial observations and meant nothing. Any elf could dress and wear their hair in the same way that she used to. It could be merely a coincidence. There was only one thing that could determine if it was really her. And instantly he spotted it: a silver ring of dwarven make on a silver chain resting securely on her chest.

No sooner had he made this observation than the elf woman walked past him, completely wrapped up in her own thoughts and oblivious to his presence. She managed to walk about ten more feet until Thorin called after her. "Hey, elf!" She stopped short, her body frozen. She did not turn around- instead choosing to focus forward. Everything in her body stiffened in surprise. Thorin felt a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth. "I believe that is my ring."

A/N: YAY! Reunion time! Sorry to say I'm not sure when I will be posting my reunion chapter. I have a feeling it's going to be longer than my typical chapters so it will take me longer. I also want to make sure it's good quality before posting it. I'm hoping it will be within two weeks but we'll see.

As always, welcome to new followers and thank you to all the people who reviewed this story! Please continue to review!


	26. The Long Awaited Reunion

Arinya stood frozen, her body rigid and statuesque. She faced forward, her eyes wide. Without even turning around, she knew that voice. She knew it well. But never in her wildest dreams and imaginings had she thought to associate it with a boy she had known so long ago. So, after taking a deep breath, Arinya turned around.

Slowly turning, Arinya's green gaze fell upon both the expected and unexpected source of the voice that had stopped her only moments before-Prince Thorin. He was finely dressed in a blue hauberk embroidered with silver secured by an exceptionally crafted silver belt, dark pants and boots, and a long black fur coat. One hand rested upon the top of a long sword belted at his waist, its pommel just visible from beneath the darkness of his cloak.

The elf woman's lips parted slightly as she looked him up and down. It was as if she was seeing him for the first time. And, she guessed, in a way she was. Traits that were shared among the dwarf boy and Thorin now became more apparent. Things like his sharp, bright blue eyes or his black hair. Both of these traits she had noticed about each of them, but had never made the connection between them. Perhaps it made sense for her to do such a thing. Never would she have thought that the dwarven boy she knew so long ago was actually a prince- grandson of the King Under the Mountain.

She just stood there, rooted in place, unmoving. Her jaw hung slack. Her mind scrambled for something to say, but came up empty handed. What could she even say?

The smile that was already on the prince's face widened ever so slightly, causing wrinkles to appear at the corner of his eyes. He let out a light chuckle and took a few steps closer to the stunned elf. "I take it you know who I am," he said as more of a statement of fact than a question.

Arinya nodded slowly. She paused, suddenly remembering that her hood was still up around her face, concealing it in shadow. Bringing up her hands and grasping the edges of her cowl, she drew it back the hood and let it fall down. She saw Thorin's blue eyes moving over her face in much the same manner as she had looked at him- searching for similarities between the friend they had known so long ago and the person standing before them now.

"It has been a while, elf," Thorin said, being the first to break the silence. The light smile was still on his face.

"That it has," Arinya responded, a small smile now creeping onto her own lips.

"So, what brings you here?" he asked, cutting to the chase.

This caused Arinya's smile to widen. He never was one for small talk. She glanced around her briefly, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Passing dwarves slowed in their walks to stare at their prince and the elf woman, wondering what they were talking about. She looked back to the dwarven prince standing before her, her smile fading slightly. "It is a topic best discussed in private," Arinya said.

Thorin nodded. "Then perhaps we should find somewhere private. But," he held up a hand, "I believe this reunion warrants an exchange of names."

A scoffing laugh escaped Arinya's lips. "My name is Arinya."

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Arinya. I am Thorin."

* * *

Arinya walked beside Thorin as he led the way through mazes of corridors, walkways, bridges, and tunnels. So far, neither of them had said a word-content to save all conversation until they reached their destination. Arinya wasn't entirely sure where Thorin was leading them. All she knew was that it was someplace more private so that they could talk freely without worry of curious onlookers overhearing them.

As they walked, Arinya couldn't help but have her gaze be constantly drawn to the dwarf prince walking beside her as more and more realizations occurred to her. Things like why he didn't want to reveal his name all those years ago. It was because he was a prince.

Just as she took another step, another realization dawned on her. She now somewhat understood why she had been seeing Thorin in her visions every night when she slept. It was because of the ring he had given her. She would look at it every day and be reminded of the dwarf boy, who unbeknownst to her was actually Thorin. Due to this daily reminder, her untrained mind would seek him out each night while she slept. In its own way, this was a sign of progress. Arinya was starting to wonder whether she would ever be able to harness her visions. This was the first sign that it was indeed possible.

Apparently reaching their intended destination, Thorin led the way through a large archway into a massive room beyond. It must have been some sort of dining hall, probably dedicated to feeding the large numbers of miners when they would come up after a long day to get some dinner. Row upon row of long tables with benches filled the room. In the center of the room was a large fire pit, a fire already lit to warm the room. Torches and elaborate tapestries lines the stone walls of the dining hall. A few other dwarves were sitting in small groups at the table, eating a late lunch or conversing with one another.

Thorin led the way down an aisle between the long tables. Arinya followed, her green gaze wandering over the near empty expanse of the massive dining hall. The dwarf prince chose a seat on the far end of one of the tables in an unoccupied corner, a good distance from any other dwarven in the dining hall. He took a seat upon one side of the table while Arinya sat on the other.

Thorin leaned forward a folded his hands together, letting them rest on the wood table. His blue eyes regarded her gently. "Now, why don't you tell me why you are here?" he asked.

Arinya crossed her arms over her chest, letting her elbows rest on the surface of the table. A light smile appeared on her face. "You do not think that I came here to find you?" she asked with a playful tone.

Thorin raised his dark eyebrows. "Did you?"

The elf woman shrugged. "I will admit, it was a bonus. But it was not the main reason I came," she confessed. Her grip tightened slightly on her arms. "To be perfectly honest, I am not entirely sure where to begin."

Thorin leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over her chest. "Then I suggest you start at the beginning," he said.

Arinya uttered a scoffing laugh. "I am not entirely sure where that is," she said rather quietly.

"Well, why don't you start with when you left for Lothlorien all those years ago?" the dark haired prince suggested.

She nodded. She shifted the position of her elbows on the table as she thought back to all those years ago, when the elves had appeared on her doorstep to take her to the Golden Wood. "Well," Arinya began, "I left for Lothlorien with the elven soldiers. The whole journey was rather boring. No one would really talk to me. Haldir, the leader of the soldiers, was the only one to keep me company." A smile crept onto Arinya's face as she recalled the memory. "He could tell that I was…nervous about my new life in Lothlorien and feeling more than a little homesick. He would come up to me each night when we made camp and reassure me, telling me about the wonders and beauty of the Golden Wood. He also made a point to describe Lady Galadriel-her beauty, wisdom, kindness, and power. After a few nights of listening to him-hearing the wonder and awe in his voice- I was no longer afraid to begin my new life. Even the homesickness had vanished because I realized that I had a new home."

"What happened after you arrived in Lothlorien?" Thorin inquired.

Arinya uncrossed her arms, instead knitting together her hands. She let them rest on the table, feeling the grain of the wood underneath her fingertips as she twiddled her thumbs. Her gaze was directed downward, utterly focused upon her hands. She took a deep breath and released it slowly. "It took us about five days to reach the edge of the Golden Wood. On the fourth day, though, something happened." Arinya took a moment as the memory came into the forefront of her mind. Her green eyes flicked up to look at the dwarf prince sitting across from her. "My magic finally awakened. It just sort of exploded out of me. It felt like my entire body was on fire-charged with some strange energy. I was terrified, which only seemed to intensify the sudden outburst of magic. It was like it was reacting to every emotion I felt." She paused for the briefest moment before continuing. "In the end, I had harmed more than a few of the soldiers escorting me. Thankfully, I had not killed any of them, but I had come closer than I would have ever liked."

"What stopped you?"

"Haldir. He had to knock me unconscious. It was the only way to stop me since I was not capable of stopping myself. He carried me the rest of the way. When I awoke, I was already within Lothlorien and in the company of Lady Galadriel, who was able to nullify my magic and prevent further incident."

Thorin leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together. "Your father said they had gotten you there just in time, but I never thought it was such a close call," he breathed.

Arinya's head snapped up, her green eyes riveted on the dwarf prince. Confusion was evident on her features. "When did you speak to my father?" she questioned, her brows furrowing.

"Five years ago, one of our miners unearthed a jewel unlike any other. It was the heart of the mountain itself. The king took it, calling it the Arkenstone-the King's Jewel," Thorin told her.

Arinya nodded. She remembered seeing the miner unearth the Arkenstone in one of her visions. But she said nothing, choosing instead to remain silent and merely nod in response to show that she was listening.

"To pay tribute, King Thranduil came with an armed escort. Among that escort was your father."

The elf woman felt a sudden lightness on her heart as she remembered. "Yes. I recall him saying in one of his letters that he accompanied the king to Erebor. But he made no mention of meeting or speaking to you. I mean, how would he even know who you were?" she asked, a slight incredulity to her voice.

Thorin chuckled. "Both he and your mother knew who I was the second they saw me that night I came to see you-the night before you left for Lothlorien. So, when he accompanied King Thranduil to Erebor, he made a point to seek me out and answer any questions I had after I saw him in the throne room." His smile widened ever so slightly. "And Thranduil introduced him as his brother." Arinya bit her lip. "It appears that I was not the only one with a reason to keep their name hidden. Though, I must admit, even if you shared your name, I would not have made the connection that you were the elven king's niece."

"That may be true, but there was no way to be sure. I did it….well, for probably the same reason you did it. So that you would not treat me any different." Arinya cocked her head to the side. "My father did not tell you my name when you met?"

Thorin shook his head. "No. He said you had told him of our arrangement, and so he made a point not to mention your name."

The brunette nodded, tucking a stray lock of hair behind a pointed ear. "Good."

"I thought you had told me that your father lived in Rivendell?"

Once again, the elf woman nodded. "He did."

"Why did he live there when his true home was within Mirkwood with his brother?" Thorin asked. He sounded genuinely curious.

"Elves are immortal beings, Thorin. Forever is a long time to stay in one place, whether it is your home or not. It is not highly unusual for us to travel between the elven kingdoms, but we always return to our home in the end. My father lived in Rivendell for a time, visiting with some friends he had not seen in many years. But, when he received a summons from his brother, the king, he returned to Mirkwood at once."

Thorin nodded his understanding. "I see," was all he said in response. "What of your mother and brother? Do they still live in the wood outside of Dale?"

Arinya shook her head, her long braid spilling over one shoulder from the movement. "They moved to Mirkwood several years ago-after Arandil joined the army. With both of their children gone, my parents decided to move to Mirkwood, so that they could be close to at least one of their children. It also made it so that my father no longer had to commute to the Greenwood and could now dedicate more of his time to the training of the hunters. But," she pointed a long, pale finger at the prince, "what about you? What has occupied you for the past ten years?"

Truth be told, she already knew the answer. She had seen his activities from her visions. Still, Arinya felt obligated to ask. It seemed rude not to. If she didn't ask, then this reunion would have been about nothing but her so far.

"Well," Thorin rested his bearded chin onto the top of his folded hands, adjusting his elbows slightly as he did so. "To be honest, there is not much to tell. My life has been consumed with studies and training-preparing me for the day that I may take the throne."

"What of your sister and brother?"

A light smile crept onto Thorin's lips. "Dis is well. She is growing into a fine young woman." Thorin uttered a scoffing laugh. "With the help of tutors of her own."

The corner of Arinya's mouth tugged up into a smile. "Is she rebellious?"

"She is ten years of age. She is stubborn and believes her time is better spent elsewhere. It frustrates her tutors to no end, but provides entertainment for Frerin and I," Thorin smiled. His blue eyes were unfocused as he recalled specific memories.

"And what of your brother, Frerin? Is he busy with his studies as well?" the elf woman asked.

"To an extent. He is bright and a fast learner. He can absorb information faster than I have ever seen. He can finish a book that takes me a week to read within a mere two days. Since he can finish his studies faster, Frerin then has more time to spend training with the instructors in swordplay."

"Is he gifted in swordplay as well?" she inquired.

Thorin chuckled. "Not particularly. He is slow and finds it difficult to identify an opponent's next move." He shook his head. "Frerin needs all the training time he can get. He has a long way to go."

"As I recall, you are a rather gifted swordsman," Arinya recollected, a smile playing on her lips. "As his older brother, have you been helping him?"

The dwarf chuckled once again. "I have been trying, but he is rather hopeless."

Arinya was about to say something in response when the sound of something shattering stopped her. Both Thorin and Arinya tore their gazes from each other, their conversation halted, as they looked behind them. Far across the dining hall, one of the few dwarves in the large room had dropped a plate, causing it to shatter when it hit the stone floor. What Arinya could only guess to be a steady string of curses in Khuzdul spilled from the dwarf's mouth as he bent down and began to clean up the mess he made. His voice and the sound of the pieces of the broken plate being moved across the stone echoed throughout the room. The other dwarves in the room who had also turned around at the sudden sound turned back around and returned to whatever they had been doing before.

Both Arinya and Thorin turned back around, their respective gazes focusing on each other once more. Their conversation interrupted, Arinya wasn't entirely sure what to say next. Thankfully, Thorin did.

"So, returning to the first question I asked you: what brings you to Erebor?" he asked, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

Arinya took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Now they came to it. "I came to have an audience with King Thrór," she told him.

Thorin nodded. "Yes, so I heard. But what was it regarding that it was so important that we speak in private?"

The brunette knitted her fingers together, resting them on the surface of the table. "One of the new…abilities that I have developed is the ability to see the future." Her green eyes flicked up briefly to look at his face before quickly returned to her hands. "It is not known to me whether what I see is guaranteed to happen or if it is simply one of many futures."

"So then, you are here because of something you witnessed in one of your visions?" Thorin asked.

Arinya nodded.

"What did you see?"

"Dale and Erebor…in flames." She looked up at Thorin then, her green eyes boring into his face. "A fire drake comes from the north and lays waste to the surrounding area. Then, it turns its sights upon Erebor. Your soldiers bar the gate and ready themselves, but the dragon blows through your defenses as if they were not there at all. The soldiers fight valiantly, but are ultimately slain if they try to stand against the wroth the drake." Arinya paused for a moment as the images flashed through her mind-recalling the smell of burning flesh, hearing the screams of the people before they were incinerated. Taking a steadying breath, the elf woman continued. "In the end, the dragon takes Erebor and its riches for itself and the dwarves are forced to leave. That is what I came all this way to warn your king about-that a fire drake has set its sights upon the Lonely Mountain."

Thorin was silent for a long few moments, his expression unreadable, before he finally spoke. "When is this to happen?"

Arinya shook her head. "I am not entirely sure. I know that it occurred during the reign of King Thrór, for I saw him within the vision still bearing the crown upon his brow."

"But you are not sure if it will happen at all?" he asked, inquiring further.

Once again Arinya shook her head. "That was part of the reason the king and your father did not believe me. But," her grip tightened on her hands. Her green eyes stared fixedly at Thorin's own blue ones, a hint of desperation in her gaze. "They have not seen what I have. I cannot bear the thought…So many people will die, Thorin, if this dragon comes. If my warning saves even one life that would have been taken if I did not come, then it was worth it."

Thorin let out a long sigh. He reached up a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache, before dropping it to his side once more. "You must understand why I am skeptical. No one has seen a dragon in nearly two hundred years. Why would one come now?"

The elf woman shrugged. "I do not know. Perhaps the fame of Erebor's wealth finally reached its ears? Look," she leaned forward, capturing his attention, "I understand that it is difficult for you to believe me, considering that the only evidence that the dragon will come is my word. But you must understand, that I would not come all this way if there was not a chance it would happen. Besides, what is the harm in taking a few additional precautions?"

The dwarf prince looked at her, as if trying to gauge whether or not to heed her. His expression was blank as he looked at her, his light blue eyes fixated upon her. Finally, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Alright. I will speak to the king."

Arinya felt as if a great weight had been taken off her heart. She let out a deep sigh of relief. "Thank you. I was not entirely sure what to do next after the king decided not to heed my counsel-return the next day and try again or merely return to Lothlorien, knowing that I had delivered the warning?"

"Well, now you don't have to decide."

The brunette smiled. "No, I do not."

"So, how long are you staying?" Thorin asked.

Arinya shrugged. "I was going to book a room at a tavern in Dale, stay the night, then head back in the morning. Actually," she gestured over her shoulder, "I should get going. It is a long ride from Lothlorien to Erebor and I came as quickly as I could. It did not leave much time for sleep along the way," she said with a light smile. "Besides, your guards at the gate are watching my horse. He is not accustomed to dwarves and may lash out at those around him. I'd prefer to get there before that happens."

She started to rise from her seat, Thorin rising with her. "Come. I will escort you out."

* * *

A/N: Finally! Sorry it took so long to post this chapter. It was strangely hard to write. I was also really busy for the past few weeks. I think I will instigate a posting day, just to make it easier for both me and you. That way, I can write several chapters and then post them all at once. Then, you know when to look for any new chapters from me. So, from now on, I will be posting every Friday-if I do have any chapters to post.

As always, welcome to all the new followers and favorites! Please review!


	27. A Rekindled Friendship

Thorin and Arinya walked side by side as they made their way to the main gate. Both of them were completely at ease in one another's presence. It was not at all like when they were first walking to the dining hall in complete silence. They passed other dwarves along the way. They would slow in their brisk walk to look at the odd pair, but would quickly direct their attention forward once more when they realized that it was Thorin.

Arinya looked sideways at her companion. Was this how they always reacted to his presence? Try not to make too much eye contact, but at the same time don't ignore him altogether? The brunette had to admit that it was different from how the elves reacted to their lords and kings. With elves, there was a certain degree of respect, but there was also friendship. With lives as long as the elves do, if you live in a singular location for long enough, it is inevitable that you will befriend many of the others of your kin living there. Arinya wondered to herself if it was so for dwarves, but quickly threw the thought away. The sheer amount of dwarves dwelling within the mountain was incredible. There was no conceivable way that one dwarf could call even twenty five percent of the population of Erebor friend.

The elf woman's green eyes wandered over the sheer expanse of Erebor, noting the difference in the architectural styles between dwarves and elves. Elves preferred their buildings with long, smooth angles and flowing lines like those found in nature. Dwarves, on the other hand, seemed to prefer sharp, jagged angles, which mirrored the hard rock in which they held dominion. These races appeared to be polar opposites-that friendship was never possible between them.

Arinya's features hardened slightly. She hoped that was not true for her and Thorin. Truly, she had become rather fond of the dwarf prince and admired him greatly. But yet….She found her gaze once again wandering to look at the face of Thorin. Arinya had to wonder: Was he the same boy she knew all those years ago or had time changed him?

She trailed her long fingertips along the marble railing as the two descended a flight of stairs. One thing Arinya had noticed was that Erebor's buildings and walkways were all a polished black bordered with gold. Just another way for the dwarves to show to wealth that was delved daily from the depths of the Lonely Mountain.

The brunette paused in her walk down the stairs. She turned, now placing both her hands upon the cool stone of the railing. Leaning forward, Arinya peered over the edge, down into the depths below. A bright orange light was emitted from far below from rivers of molten metal that flowed through the walkways on the bottommost levels. The pounding of hammers and the sound of voices speaking in Khuzdul echoed up to reach Arinya's ears. It was incredible to think of the amount of smiths, miners, and craftsmen that worked down there, churning out and crafting items of great wealth to be dispersed throughout the merchants in Erebor and to be later sold and traded with the people of Dale for things they need.

Arinya looked sideways at Thorin, her braid slipping over her shoulder. "It must be hard work to haul the mined and crafted items up from the bottommost levels," She observed.

The dwarf prince joined at the railing, standing on the steps below her. His hands were clasped behind his back in a kingly fashion. "Well, we do not have to haul them up the stairs if that is what you think," he told her. His blue eyes shifted to look at her. Obviously noting the confusion on her face, Thorin shifted his gaze forward once more.

He raised a hand and pointed his finger at something, Arinya looking to where he indicated. At first, she saw nothing. Then as she looked closer she noticed a large platform that was slowly rising from the depths of the lower levels, its surface laden with carts and crates full of the wealth plundered from Erebor's rocky bowels. Her green eyes looked the contraption up and down. It appeared to be pulled upward by some sort of gear and pulley system. The platform had a docking area at each level of the dwarven city, allowing wares to be easily dispersed throughout each level without having to haul them up several thousand flights of stairs.

Her lips parted in wonder. Her green eyes were riveted upon the contraption. "The ingenuity of the dwarves will never cease to amaze me," she breathed.

This elicited a deep chuckle from Thorin. He leaned to the side, letting his elbow rest upon the railing. His blue eyes scanned the machine for a moment before shifting to her face, her own eyes still locked upon it. "If you so wish, why don't you return tomorrow? I will give you a tour and you can witness more of our ingenuity," he said with a smile in his voice.

Arinya turned to look at him. Her eyebrows were raised, her lips parted in unmasked surprise. "A tour?" Thorin nodded. She turned her gaze forward for a moment before looking down at her hands as they knitted together to rest upon the cool stone railing. "I am not sure."

"What is there to be sure of?" he asked. He shifted his weight slightly against the railing, the scabbard of his sword hitting the stone lightly with a barely audible clack.

"I need to return to Lothlorien as soon as I can," she told him, her voice oddly quiet.

His brow furrowed in confusion. "What difference does one day make?"

"It can make all the difference in the world." She looked up at him then, a sad smile on her lips. "The longer I stay away from Lothlorien, the more dangerous it becomes."

"Dangerous for who?"

"Everyone," she answered very simply. "When I am present within the borders of the Golden Wood, Lady Galadriel is able to suppress my power. It allows me to live more comfortably-without worry that I may…lose control." Her green eyes flicked down to her hands once more, not meeting his gaze. "I felt it the moment I left to come here. It was like a sudden and terrible weight had been placed upon my shoulders. I worry what will happen if I stay away for too long."

"I thought your training was to help you control your magic, not keep you trapped," Thorin asked. "Have you made any progress?"

She nodded. "I have. The training has made it so that my magic does not flare to life with every thought or emotion I experience." The green eyes flicked up to meet Thorin's face. "But, I still have a long way to go. Ten years is not nearly enough time."

"But surely one day would not make such a difference?"

Arinya's gaze looked outward, to the rest of Erebor. He seemed to sense her doubt. She wished she could stay-she wanted to stay-but it was not without its risks.

"One day is all I ask," Thorin prodded further.

Arinya watched as the elevator was loaded up with more wares and then began to slowly make its way up to the next level. The grinding of gears and metal filled the air as it moved its way upward. Finally, after a long moment of silence, she sighed. "Very well." The elf woman pushed away from the railing. Arinya turned to face the dwarf prince who did the same. "You will have your day," she said as she proceeded to walk down the stairs.

Thorin followed after her, walking alongside her once more. "I am glad. I feared that this reunion would be short-lived," he told her honestly.

"Apparently that is not so," was all she said in response, keeping her gaze directed forward. She did her best to ignore the stares that she received from passing dwarves. They weren't particularly malevolent or vicious, but they weren't without a certain degree of wariness and mistrust.

"I feel the need to ask," Thorin began. Arinya shifted her gaze from the path ahead to look at the dwarven prince. "What does your training entail?"

Arinya looked forward once more. Her lips pursed into a thin line, her elegant brows furrowing as she thought. "Well, it is….it is difficult to explain….I suppose the best way to put it would be that I…meditate."

"Meditate?" Thorin repeated, clearly perplexed.

Arinya nodded. "Yes. It helps to keep me calm. With my magic, I have to…hold it in. Daily, I meet with Lady Galadriel to begin my training. Once there, I release my magic. I suppose the equivalent would be to opening a floodgate. Through meditation, Lady Galadriel guides me. She suppresses my magic, preventing me from harming myself or damaging any of the surrounding area. She then aides me by teaching me how to control my powers through controlling my emotions-not letting them hold sway over my magic. It is a long and slow process, but there has been progress," she told him.

"How much longer do you think you will have to train before you fully master your magic?" the dwarf prince questioned.

Arinya shrugged. "There is no way to be entirely sure. It could be many years." She looked over at him. "I hope it is someday soon, though."

* * *

Thorin and Arinya continued to walk side by side through Erebor. They discussed all manner of things-going back and forth like the old friends that they were. But after a while of walking, they finally reached the main gate.

Arinya lengthened her stride, determined to reach Denali. The white stallion seemed glad to see her and let out a shrill whinny. The dwarven guard that held his bridle uttered a curse in Khuzdul as the stallion sidestepped in his excitement, bumping into him.

A smile appeared on her face as she walked up to Denali. When she was close enough, she reached up her hands, placing them on either side on his long face. She turned her attention briefly to the dwarven guard, nodding to tell him that she had it handled. The dwarf nodded in response and turned to head to what must have been his original post on the ramparts above the gate.

Arinya turned her attention back to Denali. His nostrils were flared and his eyes wide. He was clearly upset and more than a little frightened by being left alone in this strange place in the company of creatures he did not recognize. She rubbed her hand along his face and down his neck soothingly, looking directly into his brown eyes as she did so. Arinya whispered softly to the stallion in elvish. Denali began to focus on her words, his eyes intent. His fidgeting stopped and his panicked breathing returned to normal. Within mere moments, he was utterly calm.

"Impressive," she heard Thorin say from behind her. The elf woman turned her gaze away from her steed, one hand remaining securely wrapped around his bridle, as she looked at the prince. He approached a few steps, his hands clasped behind his back. His blue eyes looked Denali up and down before returning to Arinya. "I see that it is true what they say about elves: they are gifted with all manner of beasts."

Arinya's smile widened as she patted Denali lovingly on his neck. She reached up her other hand and gently stroked the white stallion's velvet nose. "It appears so." She moved around the horse towards the saddle. Placing her hands on either side of the saddle and inserting her foot into the stirrup, Arinya easily swung herself onto Denali's back. The white horse snorted and sidestepped a little before standing still. The elf woman gripped the reins in her hands, grabbing a handful of mane before her gaze looked down at the dwarf prince. "It really was good to see you again, Thorin," she said with a light smile.

Thorin nodded. "Likewise. So? Tomorrow then?"

The smile widened ever so slightly. "Tomorrow," she agreed.

With that, she turned Denali around. Digging her heels into his side, she spurred him on at a quick canter. His hooves clacked loudly on the stone floor as he rode over it. He then proceeded through the open gate, leaving Erebor behind.

* * *

Arinya arrived in Dale and began to weave her way through the crowded midday streets. People were courteous and would get out of the way, but she did get caught behind more than one wagon lumbering down the road. But eventually, she reached her destination. It was a small stable that belonged to a tavern a little way down the road, clearly built to receive travelers. Arinya dismounted from Denali, the white horse giving a snort in response. She drew the reins over his head and led him through the doors.

There was only one other horse occupying a stall in the stable. Otherwise, it was rather empty. Perhaps it was the off season for travelers. Or maybe they were simply having a slow day over at the tavern.

Arinya led Denali over the straw covered floor towards the nearest stall. Undoing the latch, she led the stallion inside, shutting the door behind her. She then went about removing the bridle, to which Denali worked his mouth in response, clearly glad to have the bit removed from his mouth. Next, Arinya set about removing the saddle, undoing all of the buckles and fastenings. When she had finished, she slung the belts over the top of the saddle and lifted it from the stallion's back. As soon as it was removed, Arinya could feel the heat radiating from Denali's body. The brunette set down the saddle on the side of the stall, placing the bridle over the top of it.

She turned back to Denali, rubbing his neck affectionately. "There. Now you can cool down." She patted his neck. "I'll be back later."

The elf turned and exited the stall, ensuring that the latch was indeed locked after she left. Reaching over to her saddle, Arinya drew a few items from it. The first was a bag, containing money and clothing. The other was her bow and quiver. She slung the bow over her shoulder and secured the quiver's belt across her chest, the quiver itself resting between her shoulder blades. Taking a firm hold of her bag, Arinya walked out of the stables and began to make her way down the crowded streets towards the tavern.

As she walked, she began to get lost in thought. She still couldn't believe that after ten years, she and Thorin had finally reunited. She had begun to wonder if it would ever happen. The odds were certainly against them. But yet, they had found each other. Fate had been kind to them. Though, when they finally met each other, Arinya wasn't expecting to find that she already knew him as a prince. She still couldn't believe it. The person she had been seeing all these years was actually the dwarf boy all along. It was truly incredible. In actuality, the fact that Thorin was a prince more than likely helped them to reunite. As she had worried upon entering the mountain, if he had been a miner or merchant of some sort, she might never have seen him for he would have been hard at work during that time of day. She had never begun to think that she was actually meeting with the dwarf boy's grandfather and father when she had met with King Thrór and Thráin earlier that day.

Arinya shook her head. Today had turned out to be more eventful than she thought. Her green eyes flicked upwards as she caught sight of the sign to the tavern that she had selected to stay in just ahead. She briefly wondered if maybe she could go to see her old home today, before catching up on lost sleep. Perhaps she would eat first and then go.

Suddenly, Arinya stopped dead in her tracks. People stepped around her, giving her confused and irritated looks, but she paid them no heed. Her eyes were directed skyward. And flying in the clear blue sky was a red dragon kite. It was flying in the same place and with the same kites that she had seen within her vision.

"Oh, no," she breathed in horror. "It is today."

Arinya barely managed to finish her realization before a hurricane strength wind roared its way through Dale.

* * *

A/N: Yay! Another chapter done! I had to come into town today anyways so I thought I would post this one chapter that I had done. I hope to get at least one more done and post it Friday, so look for it! Besides, I meant to post this one with the previous one but didn't have the time to finish it. Besides, I like the cliffhanger ending. ;)

Looking forward to writing more of this story for you guys! Thanks for all of the magnificent reviews and please keep them coming! As always, welcome to any and all new followers and favorites! :)


	28. Smaug Has Come

Arinya barely had time to brace herself before the wind reached her. She locked her knees, squeezed her eyes shut, and brought up her hands to shield her face. Then, the wind hit her with such strength that she was almost knocked backwards. Loose strands of her reddish brown hair flying wildly around her, striking her face like tiny whips with such force that it brought tears to her eyes.

In the surrounding area, cries of surprise arose from Dale's citizens. Women held their skirts down. Merchants desperately grasped their wares to keep them from flying away. The children tightened their grips on their kites, determined to keep them from being torn from their grasp. Soldiers on watch paused in their daily rounds, looking skyward with confusion. A few dogs within the city began to howl, surely a warning call of what was to come. Birds roosting on the tops of the buildings and within the trees took to the air, flapping their wings rapidly as they sought to put as much distance as possible between them and Dale. Upon the wall surrounding the city, flags arose in the wind, only to have their shafts broken. Shutters on the windows of the surrounding buildings banged loudly, struggling against the hinges that held them.

Then, all at once, the wind died. Slowly, Arinya began to straighten to her full height. She cast a look around her before facing forward once more. Perhaps she was wrong. Maybe it was nothing more than a freak gust of wind. But even as that thought crossed her mind, she knew it wasn't true. It was hope-a prayer that it was nothing more.

From where she stood, Arinya could look down the street and over the tops of the lowest buildings to the forest beyond. From there, the elf woman could actually see the next gust coming. It roared over the heights, mowing down the pines that had stood there for centuries as if they were nothing more than weak blades of grass. Their trunks cracked or entire trees were uprooted in the hot dry wind. They were simply tossed aside, adding to a pile like kindling.

Suddenly, just like in her vision, a voice rose over the roar of the wind from the direction of the Lonely Mountain. "Dragon!" it shouted, its volume increased as it echoed within the confines of the mountain.

Then, it came. The loud pounding of wings-massive wings. Boom. Boom. Boom. Each one sounded like a small explosion. Arinya shrank back a few steps, her face paling and her heart pounding in her ears as fear gripped her. She knew what followed.

A single, earth shattering roar ripped through the air. It was so loud that the very ground seemed to tremble before it. Screams of terror arose from the citizens of Dale as they shrank back, terrified by the sudden roar of this unseen terror.

Suddenly, a jet of flame burst into the ramparts of Erebor. The flame moved, as if with a life of its own, intent on devouring anything within reach. The flames spilled over the sides of the stone and began to work their way along the dry grass towards the lush green forests beyond, determined to swallow it whole.

As Arinya stood there, watching the flames pour into Erebor, she couldn't help but reminded of what would come later. The dragon would break through the gates of the Lonely Mountain. Thorin and his men would be on the other side, prepared to attack but wouldn't get the chance. They would all be blown away and incinerated. Thorin…Thorin was going to die. The drake would crush him beneath one massive paw. She needed to get there before the dragon and prevent that from happening. She needed to get to her horse.

Just as the elf woman began to turn and head back the way she came, a fiery explosion rocked the very foundation of Dale. Rubble blew skyward, raining down on terrified people and slate roofs. Arinya shielded her eyes as heated dirt and ash rained down upon the street in which she stood, burning her hands as they made contact. She squeezed her eyes shut against the pain. It was better to have her hands burned than her face.

When it subsided, the brunette slowly lowered her hands to her sides. Her green eyes flicked skyward. Smoke was billowing into the sky from the source of the explosion. Then, from somewhere farther away in the city, another explosion rocked the earth, followed by a roar. The pounding of wings was ever present. But, as Arinya listened, she could tell that it was coming towards her.

Quickly unsheathing her bow and notching an arrow into place, she readied herself. She aimed her bow towards the sky, determined to shoot the dragon as it passed over the gap between the two buildings that the street cut through. Then, in a flash, the dragon flew overhead, seeing nothing more than a shadowy outline. Arinya let out a frustrated sigh. There was no way she could get a shot. The dragon was moving too fast. Even if she released an arrow as it passed overhead, by the time it reached the place where it had been a moment ago it would already be long gone. Her only hope was to get somewhere more open so that she could line up a shot. Perhaps she could end this here and now. But, to do that she would need to get beyond Dale. And for that, she needed Denali.

So, notching another arrow into place, Arinya turned and began to sprint full speed down the cobblestone streets, intent on reaching the stables. As she ran, explosions continued to rock the city as the fire drake continued to rain destruction and chaos down on Dale. More than once, it flew over her head, but Arinya could see nothing more than a shadow-a blur.

And suddenly, she began to understand why in her vision she couldn't seem to look directly at the dragon. It was because it was more than a vision. It was a future memory. Her future memory. She couldn't see it because she hadn't. But yet, that didn't explain other visions where she had seen the faces of people and places she had never been before. Did that mean in instances like this where she can't quite make out something, it's because she has yet to experience it?

Arinya shook her head. It was all so confusing and this was certainly not the time to be pondering the inner workings of her visions.

Suddenly, as Arinya came to a crossroads in the streets and skidded to a stop as several petrified people rounded the corner. Their faces were streaked with dirt, the clothing torn, more than one of them burned, their eyes wide with fear. They looked at her, more as a passing glance in their run for safety. But, in a moment they were gone as the dragon made another pass overhead. A jet of orange flame poured over the street, only several feet from where she stood. The fire swallowed the people whole. They screamed in utter pain and anguish.

Arinya stumbled back from the fiery attack, losing her footing. She landed none too gently upon the stone street. The brunette squeezed her green eyes shut as a flash of pain ratcheted through her body. She immediately opened them, looking skyward. Instantly, her eyes caught sight of the building to her right. It was engulfed in flames, smoke billowing out of the windows. The sound of the crackling of the flames emanated from inside. The heat was almost too much to bear just from where Arinya lay. As she looked toward the top of the building, she quickly noticed the flames eating through the remains of what must have been a guard tower. From where she was, Arinya could see the tower leaning back and forth in the wind, its foundation crumbling. It was going to fall on her.

Ignoring any residual pain she was feeling from her brief fall, Arinya forced herself to her feet and began to sprint down the street. She glanced over her shoulder at the tower. It was tipping farther now. The stones that held it upright crumbled under the intense heat, raining down on the surrounding buildings, causing more damage. The elf lengthened her strides, determined not to be caught under the falling tower. The foundation continued to crack until it could no longer hold and the tower plummeted to the ground. With a loud crash, the destroyed watchtower crushed surrounding buildings underneath its weight. Now, it was nothing more than rubble. A gray cloud of dirt and ash instantly arose, covering the street.

Arinya, who had been knocked to her knees by the sheer force of the falling tower, slowly got to her feet. She took a few breaths, but was instantly taken with a fit of coughing as she breathed in the airborne debris. The brunette glanced behind her several feet to where she had stood only moments before, but was now covered by the rubble of the fallen watchtower.

Uttering a few more strangled coughs, Arinya bent down to pick up her bow which had dropped from her grasp when she had fallen. Straightening up, she began to run once more towards the direction of the stables. She could only hope that it was still intact and nothing had befallen Denali.

As she ran, the elf woman could hear screams arising from every corner of Dale. Citizens ran this way and that, not sure of where to run. The walls and buildings that normally keep them safe were now nothing more than a death trap under the wrath of this winged terror. Soldiers did their best to defend their city, but were horribly outmatched. The dragon quickly destroyed the watchtowers that dotted Dale and incinerated any soldiers foolish enough to attempt to harm it. In the end, all anyone could do was to try to hide and stay out of the path of the flame as they waited for the dragon's wrath to be appeased.

After what seemed like an eternity of running, Arinya finally arrived at the stable and was horrified to see that the roof was on fire. Without so much as a hint of hesitation, the brunette threw open the doors and entered the stables. Smoke was quickly filling the area, pooling on the ceiling in a dark cloud. In one section, the roof had already collapsed, igniting a pile of hay intended for use as bedding in the stalls.

Arinya coughed, covering her mouth as she breathed in the smoke. Her eyes began to water and her skin to sweat as the intense heat threatened to overwhelm her. She bent low as she entered the stable, determined to stay below the sea of black smoke. As she looked around, it appeared as if the other horse that had been present in the stables earlier was no longer there. Perhaps its owner had come to save it as she was now doing with Denali. Her green eyes locked upon the stall in which she had left Denali not so long ago. Within, she could make out the form of the white stallion as he paced in his stall, rearing and uttering terrified shrill calls that sounded like the screeching of metal. His eyes were wide and his nostrils flared as his breathing came in short, quick breaths.

Quickly, Arinya moved over to the stall and undid the latch. The door swung open with a groan. She proceeded inside, heading straight up to the terrified stallion. He shied away from her as she held up a hand intended to calm him. Having no choice but to ignore his attempts to get away from her, Arinya placed her hand on his neck, using her magic to calm him. Denali stopped moving away from her but still remained in his petrified state, which was understandable. Arinya cast a glance to her right where Denali's saddle and bridle sat. There was certainly no time to saddle him. She was going to have to ride him bareback.

Taking a chunk of his mane in her hand, Arinya led Denali from his stall, down the aisle, and out the stable doors. The elf woman straightened, taking a few gulps of fresh air-or at least, fresher than inside the stables. The air was filled with the smell of smoke and burning flesh. Ash rained down on Dale like snow. As Arinya looked at the white flakes, she couldn't help but wonder if some of it was actually from the incinerated people.

People and soldiers ran in every direction, screaming and terrified-clearly not sure what to do. The confusion and chaos did nothing to soothe Denali's panicked state. But, as the brunette continued to cast her green gaze about, there were no more explosions of fire or beating of wings. Where was the dragon?

Instantly, Arinya paled as she realized she knew the answer. It was attacking Erebor. In one swift movement, she mounted Denali. She took a firm grip of his mane and squeezed her legs tighter about his sides to hold her atop him. The white stallion uttered a high pitched whinny, side stepping and people rushed about him. But Arinya's eyes were riveted on the form of the Lonely Mountain as it loomed over the burning city of men. As she looked at it, she could already see the smoke billowing from within the dwarven kingdom. Was she already too late? Was Thorin dead already?

Digging the heels of her boots in Denali's side, she spurred him down the street toward the north gate and the path that would take her to Erebor.


	29. The Fires of Erebor

In a full out gallop, Arinya reached the gates of Erebor-or at least, what used to be the gates-in a matter of minutes. From within, she could clearly hear the screams of the terrified people, the collapse of buildings, the crumbling of stone, the crackle of flames, and the thunderous footsteps as the dragon marched through Erebor practically unhindered. Smoke billowed out of the open doorway and into the sky. An orange glow emanated from within.

Arinya pulled back on the reins, the white stallion skidding to a stop. She swiftly dismounted, her feet landing on the ash and debris covered stone road. Denali neighed, rearing up on his hind legs. His nostrils were flared and his eyes wild. He did not like being so close to the dragon. The elf woman paused and turned to look at her steed. "I will be right back," she said in a soothing tone, her voice laced with magic intended to calm him. "Wait here."

Denali tossed his head back, his mane flying. He snorted, his feet ever shifting as he moved from side to side, clearly uncomfortable and petrified. But, he did not move any farther than that or run away. He remained rooted in place.

Unslinging her bow from around her shoulder, Arinya quickly notched an arrow into place and ran towards the opening. Before she even walked through the open doorway, she could feel the intense heat of the flames. It was like an oven. The heat was trapped within the mountain with nowhere to go.

Suddenly, a deafening roar emanated from within. Arinya took a step back despite herself, fear gripping her. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest as adrenaline raced through her veins. Every instinct inside her screamed at her to run the other way, to put as much distance between her and Erebor as she could, but she knew that she could never abandon these people to their fate. It was the whole reason she had come in the first place-to help them.

So, steeling herself and tightening her grip on her bow, Arinya ran through the open doorway and into Dale. As soon as she entered, the elf woman noticed piles of ash that littered the once pristine marble floor. With a sickening dread, she realized that it was actually the remains of soldiers that had been incinerated when the fire drake had initially broken through the gate. Her green gaze moved away from it, choosing to focus elsewhere. As her eyes scanned the area, she saw pieces of armor and weapons-perhaps the only remains of the soldiers that had stood at the gate. Rubble and the bodies of fallen soldiers were scattered everywhere. Upon closer inspection of the area, Arinya noticed large cracks in the stone floor. They appeared to be the remains of the dragon's footsteps, the floor cracking underneath the sheer weight.

Arinya's eyes cast about, searching for Thorin. In her mind, she simply kept saying to herself over and over "he can't be dead." She took a few more steps into the main entryway, searching each body for the face of the dwarf prince.

Suddenly, a rustling to her left caught her attention. Her head swung in that direction. At first, she saw nothing. Then, with a shifting of a cloud of ash and rubble, Arinya saw Thorin laying on his side, rising up onto one elbow. Relief flooded her features as she rushed to his side. His blue eyes flicked upward as he watched her approach. Arinya kneeled at his side, ignoring the pain as the sharp debris cut into her knees. "Are you hurt?" she asked worriedly. She hand reached out to gently touch his shoulder.

"No." Thorin slowly rose to his feet, Arinya rising with him. Pieces of debris and dust fell off of him as he straightened to his full height. His face and clothes were dirtied. He reached up a hand, wiping it over his face in an attempt to clear away some of the grime. He let his hand fall back to his side as his head turned in the direction of the interior of Erebor. "We need to get every one out. This place has become nothing more than a death trap," he said. Thorin looked over at her, his expression strangely stoic.

Arinya nodded. "What can I do?"

"I need to find the king, but…" Thorin paused, glancing in the direction of the rest of Erebor as a thunderous roar echoed from somewhere deep within. "My sister and brother…"

"I will find them. Do not worry. Now go. Find your grandfather." Arinya began to turn and jog towards a path to her right.

"Tell anyone you see to evacuate. Erebor is lost," Thorin called after her. "And Arinya!"

The elf slowed, glancing over her shoulder to the prince, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

"Be careful," he said.

She nodded. "You as well." And with that, Arinya turned and began to run deeper into Erebor while Thorin ran in the opposite direction.

* * *

Arinya ran for so long that she lost track of time. She dodged bodies and piles of rubble, skirted around mile high flames, and pushed her way through fleeing crowds of terrified dwarves, all intent on reaching the exit. Still, Arinya did not slow. She was determined to reach Frerin and Dis, and she knew exactly where to go.

In past visions of the sack of Erebor, Arinya had witnessed what had befallen Frerin and Dis. The two siblings were in the living area for the royal family and nobles. She had seen them trying to escape, Frerin trying to lead his ten year old sister to safety, but ultimately fails. While running along a pathway, some of the rock overhead crumbles and collapses onto the young boy, killing him instantly. Dis is then left scared and alone. Arinya never witnessed what became of her, but she could assume that the outcome was grim. But their fates are not for certain. If it was within her power, she would not let them die. So, ignoring the heat and falling rock, Arinya lengthened her strides to reach the siblings.

From her extensive viewing of Erebor through her visions, Arinya actually knew her way around rather well. So, she managed to reach the royal wing relatively quickly. Flames engulfed the area, licking at the stone and devouring the carpets and banners that once decorated the halls. Arinya did her best to shield herself from the flames but there was no escaping the intense heat. She could feel her tunic sticking to her back as she sweated. Her eyes burned, irritated from the dry air. She uttered a few strangled coughs as she breathed in some of the low hanging smoke. Her green eyes frantically searched everywhere as she began to walk down the hall, looking in through open doorways as she hoped to find Frerin and Dis.

Finally, she was rewarded when she saw two distinct shapes through the smoke. As she drew nearer, relief flooded her as she saw Frerin leading his younger sister by her hand. The boy looked up as she drew near. He raised a hand in which he clutched a sword, waving her over. "Here!" he called to her.

Emerging from the flames, Arinya jogged up to the two siblings. Her breathing was loud and uneven from her run. She could hear it, and perhaps even her heart beat, over the roar of the flames as they devoured the dwarven city. As she came up to them, she saw Frerin's eyes narrow.

"What is an elf doing here?" he asked, confusion evident in his voice.

"Long story," she answered very simply. "Your brother sent me to find you." Her green eyes quickly strayed over the two of them. "Are you both alright?"

"I'm fine, but Dis," he nodded down to his sister, "fell and hurt her ankle."

Arinya knelt down so that she was at eye level with the young girl. Dis watched her with wide eyes, her grip tightening on her brother's hand. "My name is Arinya, okay?" Dis nodded. "I am going to get you both out of here, but to do that we are going to have to move quickly. To do that, I will need to pick you up so that you do not further injure yourself. Is that alright?"

Dis cast a look up at her brother briefly before looking back to Arinya. "Yes," she answered.

"Alright then. Up you come." Arinya reached behind the young dwarf girl, wrapping one arm behind her back and the other underneath her legs. Rising to her feet, the elf woman drew Dis into her arms. The girl uttered a small cry of pain as her ankle was aggravated, but fell silent shortly after. She felt Dis grab a firm hold of the back of her tunic as her arms wrapped around her neck, her small head resting on Arinya's shoulder. Arinya's green eyes flicked over to Frerin. "Let's go. Stay close to me."

The brunette turned and began to run back the way she had come. She could hear the sound of Frerin's footfalls as he stayed close on her heels. As she ran, Arinya felt the girl in her arms tighten her grip on her shirt-no doubt that the movement was jostling Dis' injured ankle. But right now there was no help for it. Their first priority was to get out of Erebor. If they didn't, then a hurt ankle would be the least of their worries.

They crisscrossed over a series of bridges and pathways that extend over the enormous drop hundreds of feet below. Arinya glanced over the side of one as she ran over it, hearing the cries of those who were perhaps trapped on the lower levels. As she looked, she couldn't help but to be reminded of the miners who worked deep within the earth. Arinya wondered if they were so far below, that they hadn't heard the death and destruction being wrought on the upper levels. Even if they did know, it would take time to bring them all up and get them out of the mountain. An evacuation of Erebor would take a very long time and Arinya was certain that many would not reach the safety of the open air.

The brunette snapped herself out of her thoughts as she saw Frerin pass her and start to veer down a side path, not the way she had come. "This way!" he called, gesturing for her to follow. "It is a short cut!"

"Frerin, I-" Arinya began but stopped herself. Her green eyes wandered upwards, feeling her heart jolt. "Look out!" she yelled in warning.

Frerin stopped midstride to turn and look at her from over his shoulder. He followed her gaze upward until he caught sight of what had her so alarmed. Far above, large cracks had formed on a bridge above where he was standing, and the cracks were only getting larger. Dragon's fire was not like ordinary fire and seemed to take bites from the rock itself. Finally, the bridge could take no more and began to crumble until massive pieces broke off and began to plummet downward, right to where Frerin was standing. The dwarf boy stood there, his lips parting in shock, but he didn't move. He appeared to be frozen-too stunned to move himself out of the way.

Just before the falling rock struck the ground where he was standing, Arinya darted forward and grabbed the back of the collar of his shirt. With a none too gentle pull, the elf woman managed to yank him out of the way before leaping clear herself. She turned away just as the debris struck the ground, shielding Dis from any projectiles. The young girl uttered a frightened scream before falling silent. A cloud of dust, dirt, and ash arose into the air, causing them all too take with a fit of coughing in order to clear their lungs.

Arinya quickly looked down at Frerin. He had landed on his stomach, covering his head to shield himself. He was covered with debris, but it fell off of him as he slowly rose to his feet. Frerin's brown eyes flicked up to meet Arinya's before quickly darting away. "Thanks," he said sheepishly.

"You're welcome. Now, will you please just trust me on the path to take?" Arinya asked, her voice sounding more irritated than she really felt. Frerin nodded. "Good. Now, let's go."

Once again, the small group took off running. This time, Frerin trusted her judgment and simply followed. Arinya led them down a series of different passageways, bridges, and tunnels. More than once, though, they were forced to double back due to rubble blocking their way-the way that Arinya had used before. But she always knew an alternate route, her extensive knowledge of the paths of Erebor coming in handy. They ran for perhaps twenty minutes before they came within sight of the main gate, the blue sky visible through the open doorway. Throngs of soldiers and people poured out of the exit and into the open air.

"We are nearly there," Arinya breathed, relief filing her. They were going to make it.

She spoke too soon. Just as they began to cross a bridge to the main path to the main gate, a massive piece of rock the size of a horse, which perhaps was all that remained of one of the buildings or pillars above them, broke free and began to fall. It plummeted downward, on an inevitable crash course with the bridge. Arinya grabbed Frerin's arm, stopping him in mid stride as he started to cross the bridge. Tightening her grip around Dis, Arinya hurriedly backed up until they were off of the bridge. A moment later, the massive chunk of rock struck the bridge, falling straight through as it continued its swan dive to the lower levels. Left behind was a large gaping hole in the bridge.

"Come on," the elf said, starting to turn around. "We'll find another way."

"But the entrance is right there!" Frerin exclaimed. "We can jump."

"No," Arinya said shortly. "It's too dangerous." She began to turn back around once again, but stopped as she suddenly felt Frerin wrench himself from her grasp. She whirled around to see him dashing towards the gap. "Frerin!" she shouted, her voice filled with alarm, but he didn't slow.

When he reached the edge, he leapt high into the air. To Arinya, it seemed as if he hung in the air for a brief moment as she prayed that he would make it. Then, a moment later, Frerin's feet touched down on the other side of the bridge. He turned around, a triumphant smile on his youthful face. "See? We can make it. Come on!" he called over to her.

Arinya scowled. That was a foolish move on his part. There was no way for him to know if he could make it to the other side or not. It was an unnecessary risk. She took a few wary steps forward, but instantly stopped herself. The bridge was cracking further, no longer able to support very much weight now that its midsection had been removed. Already, the broken edges were slowly crumbling away.

"Frerin, back up!" Arinya warned, continuing to back up until she was no longer on the bridge.

The dark haired boy looked down as she pointed to the gap in the bridge. His brown eyes locked upon the rapidly crumbling stone, widening in surprise. He hurriedly backed up as the cracks in the stone began to lengthen. He looked up at them, his eyes fearful.

Arinya uttered a curse in elvish under her breath. Loosening her grip around Dis, she drew the young girl away from her so that she could look into her face. As she pulled her away, she saw tears trailing down her face. The poor girl. This was a frightful experience for her. She was losing her home, with people screaming and dying around her. She was probably in pain as well from her ankle. Arinya desperately wished that none of this had come to pass as she looked into her young face.

"Dis" she said, speaking her name gently. "You are most certainly not going to like this, but we need to get you to the other side. I am going to have to throw you over the gap to your brother."

Dis' eyes widened in horror. Vigorously, she shook her head. "No, no, no. I do not want to," she cried, new tears beginning to spill down her cheeks. "I will fall."

"Your brother will catch you," the elf woman assured her, but the terrified ten year old continued to vehemently shake her head. "Dis," Arinya began, speaking her name in such a way that drew her attention. "I swear to you, I will not let anything happen to you. Do you trust me?"

Dis looked at her, directly into the eye. The tears stopped falling and the sobs subsided. Her grip on the back of Arinya's maroon tunic tightened once again. A sudden determination appeared on the young dwarf girl's face. She nodded. "Yes."

Arinya smiled warmly. "Good." Her green eyes shifted over to Frerin, who was watching them with distress, not knowing what to do. "Frerin!" The brown eyes locked on her. "I am going to have to throw Dis across the gap to you! Get yourself ready!"

Frerin nodded. He walked, albeit cautiously, out onto the bridge, Arinya doing the same on the other side. Arinya could feel the stone slowly cracking and groaning under her feet, adding to the stress and anxiety that she already felt. When she reached the edge, her green eyes flicked up to Frerin. He had reached the precipice of the gap. He cast a fearful look at the considerable gap, which had widened since he first jumped over, before looking back up to Arinya. He nodded his confirmation that he was ready.

Arinya adjusted her hold upon Dis, moving her into a position that would allow her to throw her more easily. "Ready?" she asked her.

The young girl nodded, but said nothing as she released her grip on Arinya's tunic.

Then, taking a deep breath, Arinya threw Dis with all her might. She held her breath as she watched her sail through the air. Dis let out a shrill scream as she flew over the gap. Then, a moment later, she landed securely in her brother's arms. The elf released her captive breath in relief.

Suddenly, she saw the bridge begin to crumble from beneath Frerin's feet, the new weight of Dis apparently too much for it to bear. "Frerin, run!" she shouted in warning. "Run!"

The nineteen year old seemed to pause in the momentary victory of having his sister safe. His brown eyes flicked downward as he saw the stone beginning to give way beneath his feet. He turned to run to safety, but never got the chance as the bridge collapses. The rock began to fall down the deep chasm, bringing Frerin and Dis down with them, the young girl screaming in terror.

Arinya acted on pure instinct. Her arm raised, her palm pointed at the falling siblings. From the center of her hand, a white hot light began to emanate as her magic flared to life. Arinya could feel the power of her magic as it roared through her veins, igniting her very blood. Her magic reached out to the forests just beyond the rock shell of the Lonely Mountain. She could feel the pines burning as her magic briefly touched them before moving deeper into the earth. The trees themselves were not what she was searching for. It was the roots. Within a fraction of a moment, she found them. Using her magic, Arinya drew them under her command and pulled them to Erebor. She could feel them move, like snakes through the dirt as they rapidly cut their way through the earth to reach her, moving with blinding speed. Suddenly, one of the walls of Erebor to Arinya's left practically exploded. Rock and dirt rained into the air before plummeting downward to the levels below. Through the newly made hole in the rock came massive roots, writhing and moving like giant worms. They surged out of the hole, across the chasm, using surrounding buildings and bridges for supports. Diving downward, the tip of one of the massive roots caught up to a falling Frerin and Dis. It wrapped around them, effectively stopping their fall.

Arinya released the breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding. Her palm still glowing with a bright white light, she made an upward gesture and the roots began to gently draw up the two dwarf children. Arinya suddenly felt exhaustion sweep over her as her magic took its toll. She fell to her knees, her legs no longer having the strength to hold her upright. She began to sag to the side and would have fallen over if she had not braced herself against the floor her hand. With the other remaining, unused roots, Arinya used her magic to utilize them to wrap around the remains of the bridge, securing it and making it useable once more. The brunette could feel her strength being slowly sapped away as her magic drew on her energy. She felt as if her throat and chest were raw, causing pain with every breath as her chest heaved.

Reaching up the hand used to brace her, Arinya covered her mouth as she coughed several times. When she pulled it away, she was shocked to see the stain of red on her hand. Had she just coughed up blood? She felt her hand shaking in from of her slowly blurring vision. Arinya did her best to stave off unconsciousness. She just needed to stay awake long enough to place Frerin and Dis back on the upper level.

Within moments, the root bearing the two siblings appeared from the depths and gingerly set them onto the stone ground. They unwound itself from around them and disappeared over the edge of the bridge. With Frerin and Dis now safe, Arinya let her magic fall dormant once again, the bright glow leaving her palm as she let it fall down into her lap. As soon as her magic left her, the fire in her veins ceased, as did the taxation on her strength.

As they straightened, their eyes wide with fear and shock, they turned to look at the now weakened elf woman who lay upon the floor. Arinya looked into their faces, waiting. She wasn't sure what to expect. That was the first time a non-elf had seen her magic. She half expected them to keep their distance, calling her a witch as they backed away in fear. But they did the opposite.

Frerin set Dis down upon the ground as she continued to squirm in his embrace. Obviously ignoring the pain in her ankle, but still wincing nonetheless, the young dwarf girl hobbled over to where Arinya lay. When she reached her, she threw her arms around the elf woman's neck. "Thank you," she sobbed. "Thank you so much."

Arinya's eyes were wide with surprise. She had expected some degree of mistrust, but there was none to be found in this young girl. Her expression softening, she slowly reached up her arms and held her back. "You're welcome," she replied. Her green eyes shifted upward as she saw Frerin walking up to her.

His expression was unreadable as he looked at her. Finally, he said, "You are her, are you not?"

The elf woman's brow furrowed in confusion. "Who?"

"The elf girl Thorin spoke of ten years ago-the one he met in the woods who possessed magic. That was you." The way he said it was more of a statement of fact than a question.

Dis pulled away from Arinya to look at her, the elf woman letting her hands fall back to her sides as their embrace ended. "Yes. Yes, that was me," she sighed, answering honestly.

All Frerin did in response to that confirmation was nod. He leaned down, offering her his hand. "Can you stand?" he questioned.

Grateful for the gesture, Arinya gripped his hand, making sure not use the one that was currently stained with blood. Taking a firm hold of her hand, Frerin hauled the weak elf to her feet. As soon as she was on her feet, she felt rather light headed. She placed a hand on her forehead and closed her eyes, as if it would soothe it. Her legs felt weak and unsteady beneath her, but at least they could carry her weight. Her green eyes flicked over to Frerin, who still held her hand in case she needed him. She opened her green eyes and offered him a grateful smile. "I am fine now," she told him, her voice reassuring.

Frerin nodded and released her hand, his arm falling back to his side. He bent down and scooped Dis up into his arms, his young sister wrapping her arms around his neck for support. Together, the three of them crossed the bridge, now held together by the summoned roots and began to make their way to the main gate. Behind them, they left the intense fires, scorching heat, crumbling buildings, clouds of smoke, and the burned and mangled bodies as they made their way toward to freedom of the open air.

* * *

A/N: Hello everyone. Hope you are enjoying my story so far. I would just like to take a moment to request some more reviews from everyone on this particular chapter. I worked really hard on it and would very much like to hear your opinions on it. Especially on the fact that I just revealed a little more about Arinya's magic. I would LOVE to hear from people I haven't yet. I want to know what you think so far and would like to hear from you at least once. As for my other regular reviewers, thank you sooooo much! I love you all! I can honestly say that I think of you every time I post a chapter because I look forward to reading your wonderful reviews. They really mean a lot to me and make me want to continue to write this story. So thank you! You are the reason that this story is still going!

And I would just like to take a moment to say "YAY" because we have reached 200 follows on this story! I am really grateful for your continued support! If you have anything in depth that you want to ask me or just want to know where I am going with the story, just shoot me a PM and I will respond ASAP. As always, welcome to all of the new followers and favorites! PLEASE REVIEW!


	30. Abandonment

Arinya, Frerin, and Dis joined the throngs of panicked dwarves as they frantically pushed their way toward the main gate, desperate to escape from the fiery death trap that Erebor had become. They made sure to stick together, Arinya and Frerin walking shoulder to shoulder so that they would not become separated in the chaos. As they neared the gate, the brunette could already feel the cool breeze, a sweet relief to her sweat drenched body as it blew over her.

Within a few minutes of hurriedly shuffling feet, the trio exited the Lonely Mountain through the shattered main gate. The emerged through the opening onto the slopes of the mountain. Hundreds, if not thousands, of dwarves stood upon those slopes, disheveled and distraught. Wails of anguish and despair filled the air as they mourned the loss of their home, friends, and family-their entire lives.

They moved through the gateway, walking with the crowds. They began to cross the small stone bridge that extended over the slight drop in front of the doorway. Arinya's green eyes searched the crowd, looking for any sign of Thorin.

Almost instantly, she spotted him. He was standing near the end of the bridge with sword in hand. His face was covered in dirt and grime, his clothes dirtied and torn. His blue eyes rapidly scanning the crowd of dwarves as they passed them, his gaze almost desperate.

Dis straightened in Frerin's arms, turned her head to look out over the crowds. Immediately, she spied her older brother. "Thorin!" she yelled, calling his name with excitement.

The dwarf prince's head instantly swung in their direction. His blue eyes cut through the throngs until they landed on the trio as they made their way towards him. A wave of relief washed over his features as he saw them alive and well. When they were close enough, he said, "I was beginning to worry that you did not make it out."

"We almost didn't," Frerin responded. He gestured to Arinya. "We only made it out because of her." He shifted his head to look at her, his expression grateful. Arinya nodded her assent.

"She used magic, Thorin!" Dis exclaimed suddenly. "She called these giant roots from the earth. They caught us when we began to fall after the bridge collapsed from beneath us." Her youthful face turned to look at her, a wide smile on her face. "She saved us."

Thorin's brow raised in surprise as his bright blue gaze shifted to look at Arinya. She raised a hand to stop him. "I will tell you about it at a later time," she said. "Did you get your grandfather and father out?"

Thorin nodded. His eyes shifted to his two siblings. "Frerin. Take Dis over to father." He turned and pointed somewhere down the heavily crowded slope. "He is down there with the king."

Frerin nodded, his brown eyes locked on where his older brother had indicated. With a brief glance at Arinya, he began to make his way through the crowd. Dis peeked over the top of his shoulder and waved goodbye. The action of the young dwarf girl brought a light smile to Arinya's face as she waved back. She and Thorin watched them go until they disappeared into the throng.

"Thank you for helping them," Thorin said gratefully, turning his attention back to the elf woman before him.

Arinya nodded. "It was no trouble. I was more than glad to do it," she replied sincerely. The brunette shifted on her feet, visibly wincing.

Thorin's brow furrowed. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. His blue eyes looked at her face. "There is blood on your face."

Reaching up a weak, trembling hand, Arinya wiped it over her mouth, clearing away any of the residual blood. When she pulled it away, she looked down at it. There seemed to be more blood than there should have been. Was her nose bleeding as well? She wiped her hand across the bottom side of her nose and drew it away. Apparently, it was.

"Are you hurt?" Thorin asked again.

He reached a hand towards her, but Arinya swiftly held up a hand to ward it away. "I am fine. Truly, I am. This is just what comes of using more of my magic than I should," she said, her face continuing to wince as her chest and throat burned and ached. Her body was weak and drained of strength, but it was not as bad as it had been a few minutes ago-though, it was still enough to slow her down significantly.

"I thought that the training was supposed to help you," Thorin responded, his blue eyes looking her up and down as if he was worried she might fall over.

It probably wasn't such radical thought as Arinya felt herself waiver slightly as a strong wind blew over the mountainous slopes. "It has," she answered. "But the training takes time. It has only been ten years."

"You would think that would be enough to prevent something like this," Thorin stated dryly, gesturing to her bloodied and weak state.

"Apparently not," Arinya responded.

Suddenly, from somewhere down the slope, the elf woman heard someone shout, "Look!" Both Arinya and Thorin shifted their attention in the general direction that it originated, along with many other people. Arinya felt her heart jolt. Was the dragon coming around for another attack? Then, she saw several of the dwarves in the crowd looking to one of the high slopes to the west. Both Thorin and Arinya moved their gazes in that direction. Instantly, their eyes locked upon hundreds of elven soldiers, all heavily armed and ready for battle, standing upon the precipice. At their forefront was Arinya's uncle, King Thranduil. The elven king looked down upon them from atop his steed, a large white stag.

Arinya felt a surge of happiness. The elves were honoring their alliance with the dwarves of Erebor. They were coming to help. She had never seen this in any version of the attack on Erebor and Dale. Arinya found herself wondering if by somehow coming to Erebor, she effectively changed the future in some manner that brought the elves to their aid. Or maybe, her visions simply ended before they arrived. Either way, the brunette was beyond glad to see them.

A joyous smile spread across her face as she moved to stand beside Thorin, her green eyes locked upon the army of her kin. She half wondered if her father and brother were among their ranks, or even her cousin Legolas. "The elves have come to help," she breathed. She briefly glanced at Thorin. "Maybe Erebor is not yet lost."

Thorin said nothing in response as he watched the army with an unreadable expression.

They stood there for several agonizing seconds, but the elven army did not move. Why were they not moving? Thranduil just sat there, astride his stag, making no move to come to their aid. He just stood there, watching them, as if he was gauging something. What was he waiting for?

Then, shock gripped Arinya's heart as she saw them begin to turn around head back the way they came-back to the Greenwood. "What are they doing?" Arinya asked in utter astonishment, unable to come to grips with what was transpiring right before her eyes.

Thorin's expression grew dark. His brows furrowed into a deep and furious scowl that made even Arinya take a step back, despite herself. His teeth were gritted. "Is it not obvious?" he snarled, snapping at her. "Your people have betrayed us!"

Arinya shook her head, refusing to believe what she was seeing. "No, no. There must be some explanation," she said, her mind scrambling to come up with something to explain what had just happened.

"There is a perfect explanation," he growled, now directing his scowl at her. His blue eyes were alight with fury. "Our alliance meant nothing to them. They have abandoned us."

The elf woman continued to shake her head. "No. He cannot just walk away like this." She turned and released a sharp whistle. She heard a couple of exclamations from some of the dwarves farther down the slope. Searching with her vivid green eyes, Arinya quickly spotted Denali pushing through the crowds as he trotted toward her. When he reached her, he uttered a snort. He seemed to be slightly more relaxed than he had before when she had left him outside the burning mountain. Placing one hand on his back and the other grabbing a tuft of his blue mane, Arinya swiftly mounted Denali. The stallion sidestepped a little, causing some of the dwarves to move back.

"Where are you going?" Thorin demanded.

"To stop him. He has an obligation to help you and I intend to remind him of it," she responded coolly, looking down at Thorin.

"I no longer want his help," he snapped, glaring up at her.

Arinya looked at him, almost sadly. "You may deny his aid, but your people may not. They need help." Tearing her gaze away from his face, not waiting for his response, Arinya dug her heels into Denali's sides as she rode in pursuit of the departing elven army.

* * *

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed the previous chapter! I REALLY appreciate it and love you much more for it. Please continue to review and let me know what you think so far!


	31. No More

Arinya bent low over Denali's withers, lost in his long mane as he galloped toward the retreating army. Over and over in her mind, the elf woman tried to come to grips with why Thranduil would so readily abandon his allies. He had come all the way from the Greenwood with his army only to turn back a moment after reaching the roots of the Lonely Mountain. Perhaps he had seen the smoke rising into the air and assumed that Erebor was under attack from an unknown army-not a winged terror like a fire drake. Still, that did not justify the complete abandonment of the dwarven people, not to mention the men of Dale.

After more than a few long minutes of riding, Arinya finally came within sight of the departing elven army. She saw a few soldiers within the ranks turn their heads at the sound of galloping hooves, their hands visibly tightening on their weapons in preparation for any attackers. But, it seemed that as soon as they caught sight of the white coat of an elven horse, their posture relaxed. Still, Arinya could feel some of their gazes following her as she neared, ever wary for any possible threat.

Denali slowed his fast gait, settling into a trot as they rode alongside the ranks of soldiers. Arinya's green eyes quickly scanned over the area until they settled upon King Thranduil, who was riding not far ahead. Spurring her stallion into a gallop once more, the elf woman made chase. She rode Denali up the line of soldiers, some of them giving her confused and curious looks. When she reached Thranduil, she passed him. Then, tugging sharply on the reins, Arinya swerved Denali in front of Thranduil's stag, effectively stopping his march.

The elven king looked at her, a mix of surprise and recognition evident in his expression. "Arinya? What are you doing here?" he asked of her. His eyes strayed over her for a moment-probably taking in the sight of her dirtied and torn clothing and the grime and blood covering her face. "What has happened to you?"

Arinya's brows furrowed into a scowl, feeling her temper welling up inside her, filling her with a new source of energy that had originally drained her strength. Mentally making sure that her emotions would not incidentally release an unintended discharge of magic, Arinya spoke. "I was doing my part to aid those that needed it," she responded bluntly. Her eyes narrowed. "As should you." Inwardly, she knew that she shouldn't speak to a king in such a way, whether he was her uncle or not. But she could not allow him to get away with such an action.

Thranduil's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. His face was utterly expressionless, as if chiseled from stone.

"How dare you abandon them!" she scolded, her temper rising further. "You made an alliance with them, to come to their aid when their need is most dire. And when the moment comes, you leave them!"

"I will not throw my men's lives away to do battle with a dragon," Thranduil responded, his posture clearly irritated as he glared at her in warning.

"And why not? If the Greenwood was assailed by a dragon, the dwarves would surely uphold their end and come to our aid," she informed him tersely.

"You know nothing of dwarves," the elven king growled at her, his own temper slipping even more. "They are greedy, selfish creatures who care for nothing but their riches. Such beings are not deserving of my aid."

Arinya shook her head in disbelief. "It is not your place to decide who does and does not deserve help," she said icily. "It is your obligation to offer it to whomever may need it."

"I hold no obligation to the dwarves!" Thranduil declared.

The elf woman scoffed. "What message does this send to your other allies? That you pick and choose who is worthy of your help? How many of them do you suppose would wish to continue an alliance with such a nation?"

Thranduil's face was hard as he scowled at his niece, but Arinya would not back down. She was too far in to turn back. "Others would agree with the decision. It is foolhardy to throw the lives of my kinsmen away in an attempt to retake the mountain from a fire drake. I simply will not do it."

"But they will be homeless!" Arinya exclaimed.

"I do not see that to be my problem," the elven king stated very bluntly.

He made a move as if to steer his stag around Denali, but Arinya quickly positioned him in his path once more. "Very well. If you will not help to retake their home, the least that you can do is to provide them with food and water-not to mention heal the severe burns that many of them no doubt received."

Thranduil looked her square in the eye, obviously growing more and more impatient with her with each passing moment. "No," was all he said in response.

"No?" Arinya repeated in disbelief. "Let go of your past hatreds, uncle. The dwarves of this age have done nothing to offend you and do not deserve the animosity that you direct at them."

"They deserve every bit of it," the blond elf replied with bitterness. "Middle-earth would be better if the dwarves were wiped from the land. Or, perhaps it would simply be better if they were never created at all."

Arinya scowled furiously at her narrow-minded uncle. She did not know what to say in response to such a comment. She could only stare at him, open mouthed. She didn't even know what to say next. She had said everything that she had wanted to and he still would not help. It was clear to her now that his mind was set and would not be changed by any words from her. The elves would still not help.

In her stunned and still angry state, Thranduil easily maneuvered her stag around Denali. He paused for a moment, his gaze locking on her face but she did not look at him. She couldn't. For if she did, she feared what she might say or do. "Mind your tongue, young one. You will learn your place, Arinya. And it is not with the dwarves. But, you will learn that soon enough." Then, with that, the elven king spurred on his stag. With a mere gesture, the army once again began its march home, leaving a dazed Arinya behind.

* * *

Arinya rode upon Denali's back as he trotted back into the midst of the throngs of dwarves standing on the roots of the Lonely Mountain. They looked so lost, not quite sure what to do or where to go as they watched their home burn. The elf woman noticed a few of them glance in her direction as she passed, their eyes filled with a mix of sadness and barely contained contempt. They probably just saw her for her people-the ones who had betrayed them only moments ago. Arinya directed her attention forward, doing her best to ignore the glares she received, as her green eyes scanned the crowds, searching for Thorin.

She spotted him almost immediately from atop Denali, the height providing her with a distinct advantage. The dwarf prince was standing with the rest of his family-King Thrór, Thráin, Frerin, and Dis, who was clutching her elder brother's leg tightly as her young eyes looked out over the masses. The royal family was surrounded by what remained of the guard, who ringed them protectively.

As Denali made his way toward them, Arinya saw the young dwarf girl turn her attention to look at the approaching rider. Immediately, a smile broke onto her face as she exclaimed, "She's back!" She tugged on the bottom of Thorin's blue hauberk, drawing his attention. "She's over there!" she told him, pointing.

A few of the surrounding dwarves turned to look at her as they heard the young girl's exclamation, their gazes suspicious. Some of the guards ringing the royal family shifted their heavily armored bodies in her direction, wary of this approaching rider.

Thorin separated himself from his sister, saying something to her-probably for her to stay put. Then, he moved through the line of guards as he made his way towards Arinya. As he approached, the brunette could clearly see that his temper had not yet died down. His shoulders were set, his muscles tense. His dark brow was furrowed into a deep scowl and his teeth gritted. His once gentle, kind blue eyes were now filled with barely contained fury.

When he was close, Arinya pulled back on Denali's mane, signaling for him to stop. His ears swiveled backwards, waiting for any further commands. Swiftly, the elf woman dismounted, her booted feet landing with a dull thud upon the dried grass. Removing her hands from Denali's side, Arinya turned to face Thorin.

"Well?" he asked, his voice clearly agitated.

She slowly shook her head. Her expression was ashamed. She briefly flicked her green eyes away as his glare intensified. "They will not come."

Thorin scoffed, one hand resting on his belt as he looked away in disgust. "I thought as much," he said, his voice filled with venom.

They were silent for several long moments. Together they looked out over the expansive area. Hordes of dwarven people covered slopes of the Lonely Mountain, the city of Erebor hemorrhaging smoke and fire from its depths just behind them. Far down the road, Dale was in ruins. Every tower that had rose in defense of this city of men had been consequently knocked to the ground. Portions of the walls were collapsed and the gates shattered. Wails of anguish arose in the air, from both the dwarves and the people of Dale. The scent of death and smoke was thick in the air. The forests surrounding the once flourishing area were utterly leveled, the trees reduced to nothing more than ash or smoking stumps. Ash rained down on the land, covering it in a thick layer of white-just like snow.

"This is how it always ended," Arinya whispered, her voice sounding lost. She could feel Thorin's hard gaze shift to her. "Every single time it ended like this."

The dwarf prince's brow furrowed as he frowned at her. "Every time?" he repeated. "How many times have you seen the sack of Erebor?"

Arinya bit her lip nervously. She shouldn't have said that. She wasn't sure how Thorin would react. Now, though, she had no choice and she felt that he would not respond well to the truth. "A month," the brunette answered finally.

His eyebrows rose as a mixture of disbelief and pure rage crossed his face. His nostrils flared. He took a step toward her so suddenly that Arinya instinctively shied away, momentarily averting her gaze. "You knew for a month and you said nothing?" he asked, his voice filled with anger.

"I did not think that it was real," she told him, her tone defensive. "I thought it was nothing more than a dream."

"But after the first week, it was not enough for you?! How many people have died today because you decided to withhold this information until the last possible moment?!" he threw at her vehemently. A furious scowl was on his face, his eyes wild and filled with fury. His hands were balled into fists at his side. Every muscle in his body was tensed, seemed to quiver as his temper flared.

Arinya felt her own anger well up inside her at this unprovoked attack. "It is not my fault that the dragon attacked, if that is what you are insinuating," she said, her tongue laced with ice and venom as she sought to defend herself. Her elegant eyebrows were pointed downward like lightning bolts. "I had no way to know when it would come!"

"But you KNEW that it could!" he yelled. "You said so yourself!"

"Thorin, your anger is misplaced," Arinya warned, her voice low.

Thorin scoffed. "Apparently so was our trust in the elves! We made an alliance with them and look where we are now! Homeless, forced to flee, leaving behind the bodies of thousands of our kinsmen-our family, friends, and neighbors!" He stepped close to her then, his face mere inches from her face as he glared at her. His gaze bored into her, but Arinya refused to look away, not giving him the satisfaction. "Don't you dare to tell me that my anger is misplaced….elf," he spat, speaking the last word like it was a curse. "You are just the same as they are-only seeking to further your own interests and agenda, oblivious to the destruction that rains down around you!"

Arinya flinched, that last statement striking a cord. "I am far from oblivious, Thorin! If I had been, I would not have come at all! But yet," she gestured to herself, "here I am! I stood beside you as they turned their back on you! I left to stop them, but when I failed I came back and I am still here! I do not feel the same way that they do!" she shouted back at him, her temper slipping much more.

By now, the dwarf prince and the elf woman were drawing quite the audience to their argument. More than a few heads turned in their direction while others merely listened, pretending to mind their own business. Just over Thorin's shoulder, Arinya glimpsed the royal family. Both Thrór and Thráin wore similar glares as their respective grandson and son, evidently agreeing with his harshness towards her. Frerin seemed to be torn, unsure of whether to hate her for the person the men of his family perceived her to be after the elves betrayed them or the person who traveled hundreds of leagues to warn them about a dragon attack-the person who had saved his life. Not to mention Dis. Her green gaze momentarily flicked down to the young girl. Frerin had his hands on her small shoulders, as if he was holding her back from running over to break up the feuding duo. There was a pained expression on her youthful face as she simply watched them from a distance.

"You are EXACTLY like them!" he roared at her. "For all I know, you could have done this on purpose! Perhaps the dragon attack favors the elves in some way. That way, you would withhold your warning until the last possible moment, making sure to warn your beloved uncle away when the time came, and then to come and deliver news of the dragon's impending attack. That way, you could garner yourself some goodwill, marking yourself conveniently as a friend of the people, effectively giving the elves a spy among our ranks."

Arinya stared at him with a slack jawed expression. "You are a complete and utter fool if you believe even a small portion of that delusion to be fact!" she snapped at him.

Thorin's scowled deepened, if that was even possible anymore. Every muscle in his body was tensed, quivering with rage. From the way that he was looking at her with sheer and utter loathing, Arinya feared for a moment that he would strike her, but was relieved when found that he didn't. "Perhaps I am a fool," he said, his voice strangely low. "A fool for thinking for even a moment that I could find a friend among **your** kind." He pointed a finger menacingly at her. "I want you to leave now. If you do not leave immediately, I will not hesitate to have you cut down." He let his hand fall back down to his side, his wrath filled gaze never straying from her face. "I **never** want to see you again," he snarled at her. Then, the prince turned on his heel and stormed back over to join the rest of his family, not once looking over his shoulder.

Arinya stood there, stunned for a brief moment. She cast a glance around her as she felt several pairs of eyes landing on her, loathing and distain reflecting in their depths. Turning around, Arinya swiftly mounted Denali and began to ride him through the crowds. As the dwarven people stepped out of the way, they made sure to shout insults and curse her name. Most of them were in Khuzdul, so Arinya could only assume what they were saying, but a few were viciously spoken in the Common Tongue. Doing her best, the brunette paid no heed, not responding to the hatred that was thrown at her as she left. She felt tears beginning to rise, blurring her vision and making her throat constrict. But she refused to cry. She would not cry in front of these people.

How had this happened? Arinya had finally reunited with her closest friend since childhood. Then, more than likely an hour or two later, he was lost from her. He no longer wanted anything to do with her or any of her kin. He never wanted to see her again.

As she rode away, leaving the smoking mountain and ruins of Dale behind her, Arinya couldn't help but wonder if this was some cruel joke. Fate had brought them together again only to tear them apart once more. Perhaps Thorin was right. Maybe they were fools for thinking that they could be friends.

* * *

A/N: DRAMA! I'm sure that many of you hate me, and quite possibly Thorin, at this moment. I would just like to take a moment to say that having Thorin become angry and fight with Arinya, effectively ending their friendship, was not always the plan. I have discussed it extensively with a friend of mine. At first, we thought that because of her friendship with Thorin and due to the fact that she was there helping during the fall of Erebor, Arinya would become exempt from the hatred that Thorin directs at the elven people-thus no argument. But something just kept nagging at me. I just feel like Thorin is the type of person to lash out at anyone or anything when he is angry or hurt. I simply feel that it is a part of his character.

Please send me a review or PM to let me know what you think about this and to let me know whether you think I made the right choice or not! Thanks for your continued support for this story! It is greatly appreciated!

Oh! And also let me know what you thought of the Thranduil/Arinya confrontation scene. Not entirely sure what PJ's reasoning is going to be behind his reason to not help (since that is what I will be primarily going by), but I hope that I got reasonable close. Please let me know what you think!


	32. Frustration

It took Arinya only a few days of hard riding to reach Lothlorien. During her ride, the brunette's temper cooled and her thoughts became clearer. Her mind became riveted ever upon Thorin and their fight. She had grown so angry with him at his delusionary attack. How could he think that she was his enemy? She was the one who came to warn them of the dragon in the first place. She didn't know that it would come that very day. And yet, he insisted on blaming her, as if it was her fault that the dragon came at all. When he had started to yell accusations at her, Arinya felt she had no choice but to defend herself as her own temper arose within her. Why didn't she have to do that? Losing her own temper probably just made everything worse. And yet, she couldn't let him get away with everything that he was saying to her without a fight. She had to say something in her defense. She wouldn't just stand there silent. But either way, in the end it didn't matter. Arinya had lost Thorin.

So, the elf woman returned to the Golden Wood, continuing her training with Galadriel. She half expected to receive a scolding from her mentor, but she did no such thing. Arinya assumed that Galadriel knew what had transpired at Erebor-whether it was from receiving word of the events or from simply reading her student's thoughts. It didn't really matter. Arinya was just glad that Galadriel made no mention of the events and focused on her training.

As time began to drag on, and she thought more about her fallout with Thorin, Arinya slowly came to the realization that she wasn't even angry with him. She actually understood, in a way, why he had reacted the way he had. Thorin seemed to be the type of person that would lash out at anyone or anything when he lost his temper. So, when the elves betrayed him and his people, when he looked at Arinya, all he could see was a member of the people who had left them-the elves. She wasn't saying that his anger wasn't misplaced upon her. It still was. She just was saying that she understood why he was angry. Arinya was enraged by her uncle's actions as well. In addition, Thorin had just lost his entire home and many of his kinsmen-some of them may have even been friends of his. It was understandable that his emotions would have been running high. So, when Thranduil betrayed the dwarves, that was the tipping point. His anger in full bloom, Thorin whirled around and lashed out at the nearest person, which also just so happened to be an elf and his friend-Arinya.

With this realization, Arinya was no longer angry with Thorin. It was actually much to the contrary-she was utterly calm. She understood why he acted the way he did so she had absolutely no reason to hate or despise him. So, Arinya decided that she wouldn't give up on him so easily. He was still her friend even if she wasn't his.

So, for the next two years after the fall of Erebor, Arinya left Thorin alone. She was content to wait, letting his temper settle and let the initial pain of the loss of his home lessen. Who knows? Maybe Thorin would realize that his anger was misplaced and contact her to apologize. But in the two years that followed, there was no word from the dwarf prince. That didn't discourage Arinya, though. She just waited.

Arinya didn't know what became of the dwarves after she left. She knew that they had left their home behind them, leaving in droves with what little they had left, but she didn't know where they went. For some reason, her visions were not of the dwarves. She couldn't see their or Thorin's fate and she couldn't determine why. So, for now, she simply assumed that they sought refuge with some of their other people, such as the dwarves living in the Iron Hills. But it was only a guess.

During those two years, Arinya continued her training. Within a few weeks of her return, she had received a letter from her father. He was understandably infuriated with her for what she had said to the king. Arinya did her best to apologize to Leyandril, who she had not seen so angry. But, her father consented after a few letters. He admitted that he didn't agree with his brother's choice either and had been pressing the issue ever since they left Erebor behind them as a smoking ruin. But, Thranduil remained adamant-he would not help the dwarves.

Arinya was glad to hear that at least her father thought in the same way as she did. She had briefly thought that word of her actions would spread and she would become an outcast among her own people. Luckily, no such thing had transpired. In fact, according to her father, many other elves within the Greenwood seemed to be in disagreement as well, but they were not in a position such as his where they could say such things and walk away without being thrown in the dungeons. She was glad to hear that there was still hope among her people-hope that not all of them were of like minds to her uncle.

Eventually, when the two years had passed, Arinya began to put out feelers to locate Thorin and the rest of the dwarves. She asked some of the few travelers who passed through the Golden Wood and even asked some of the elven hunters if they knew anything. Within no time at all, she had found them.

Apparently, the dwarves of Erebor had left their home behind in large numbers, led by King Thrór. But, it is difficult to feed such a large group. Some people actually starved as they made their way to find a new place to call home. Some of the dwarves, as Arinya had predicted, had turned east as they made their way to the halls within the Iron Hills. Others stuck with the royal family as they led them. But slowly, more and more dwarves began to peel off from the main group, making their way to the villages of men where they could find work and feed their starving families. The dwarves of Erebor became steadily more distant from one another as they became increasingly scattered. Eventually, the royal family and a handful of dwarves were all that remained. This small group had settled in the hills of Dunland, to the west of the Misty Mountains. There, the dwarves had set up a sort of village. The women would stay behind with the children while the men ventured out to look for work, sending a good portion of the money they earned home to their families.

It was in Dunland, where Arinya knew that she could find Thorin. So, the elf woman began to write letters to the dwarven prince, trying to talk to him. But there was no response. At first, Arinya thought that maybe Thorin was no longer in Dunland-that her letters did not reach him. Then, to her utter shock, she received a letter back. But, it wasn't from Thorin. No. This particular letter belonged to a now twelve year old Dis. In her letter, she described to Arinya how her letters had arrived at their home in Dunland. Thorin would go into the town of men a short distance from where their village was to work. He would return every evening late at night. Dis, who Thorin thought to be long since in bed, would watch her brother. On every occasion, as her brother saw yet another letter from Arinya, a furious scowl would appear upon his face. Without opening it, he would tear it in two and throw it into the fireplace. Dis was entirely sure that he had not read a single word of any of Arinya's letters.

That fact stung Arinya a little, but didn't deter her. At least now, she knew that he did receive her letters, though he never read them. Still, the elf woman believed that if he simply read one of her letters-if he sent one in response, whether it was angry or not-it was a sign that she was getting through to him. So, she kept writing letters.

In the meantime, Arinya found herself writing letters to Dis. She inquired into her family and how they were doing-even what their opinion of the elves and Arinya was. Dis described to her how her grandfather, Thrór, appeared to be fraying at the edges though it wasn't as apparent to someone outside his own family. His illness had worsened now that his gold had been taken from him. When he thought no one was around, Dis could hear him mumbling something about needing to find even one scrap of wealth. Thráin seemed to still be stunned by the loss of Erebor as well, but he spent his time directing the workers and ensuring that daily life in their small rundown village ran smoothly. Frerin would accompany the other workers to the surrounding villages of men as he sought out work. It appeared to be wearing him thin, but his work brought in good money. Obviously, the knowledge that he rapidly gained through all those books he read was paying off.

On the subject of the elves, according to Dis, both of the elder descendants of Durin still were fuming about the betrayal, and Arinya was no exception to their loathing. Dis seemed to be unsure of how Frerin felt. He had a logical mind. He appeared to be torn. Part of him seemed to know that Arinya was not like the other elves-that she was not deserving of the way they treated her-the fact that she saved his and Dis' life being proof of that. The other part of him was unsure of her intentions-fearing that she may actually be the demon that Thorin made her out to be. Dis suspected Frerin to be secretly on Arinya's side, but wouldn't say anything of the like to Thorin, his father, or grandfather. And Thorin, well…Thorin's feelings were pretty clear.

For the next three years, Arinya continued to write to Thorin, trying to elicit some sort of reaction out of him, but was ultimately unsuccessful. The dwarf prince continued to ignore her. As she wrote each letter, the brunette could actually picture him tearing it up and throwing it into the fire. But still, she persisted.

She also continued to write to Dis who was growing into a fine young woman. Arinya found herself enjoying each letter that she received from her and looking forward to the next one. She loved her no nonsense attitude and her kind and nurturing nature. Arinya could honestly say that she had taken a liking to the dwarf girl and was proud to call her a friend. She was glad that she had at least one friend among the dwarven people. In more than one of her letters, to both Arinya's amusement and shame, Dis told her how she fearlessly stood up to Thorin on her behalf. She argued repeatedly about how unreasonable he was being, constantly reminding him of all the horrible and untrue things he said about her. All Thorin did was to call her naïve-saying "When you are young, you still assume the best in people. You live a few years, you start seeing the hate in people's hearts."

That phrase seemed to hang in Arinya's mind. Did he really believe that? When you are young, you are naïve? When you grow up, you only find out that everyone is a terrible person waiting for their chance to stab you in the back? What a horrible way to think of the world. Truly, the fall of Erebor had changed him in more ways than one. As this thought crossed her mind, Arinya found herself wondering if the boy she had known all those years ago was still in there somewhere, buried beneath a thick layer of hatred and cynicism. It was as that thought crossed into the forefront of her mind, that Arinya knew what she had to do.

* * *

TA 2775

5 years after the Sack of Erebor…

Thorin was working late in the forge in Starkmoor this night, a small village in the hills of Dunland. The sun had long since set and the sky was covered in a thick layer of storm clouds that thundered angrily as they rolled in. No light fell upon this small village of men, the clouds effectively covering the stars and moon. Torches that lined the streets and the inside of homes and shops were the only sources of light this night. A light rain fell from the sky, turning the once solid dirt road to sloshy mud.

Thorin worked within the forge with his back turned to the street as he repeatedly pounded a heated piece of metal, determined to shape it how he desired. He had worked in this forge for the past few weeks under the watchful eye of the owner. Thorin would carry out any contracts for work that the owner would receive, using his skills in dwarven craftsmanship to create items of great quality. The owner seemed to be pleased with his work so he kept him on for another few weeks. So, at least for now, Thorin had money to send home to his family.

Reaching up his hand, the dwarf prince wiped a layer of sweat that had accumulated from his brow. The muscles in his shoulders ached from the endless hours of repeatedly working and pounding the metal. He normally began his commute back home nearly two hours ago, but he was determined to finish this piece so that it was ready for tomorrow. That way, he could get a small bonus for having it done early. And to be perfectly honest, his family could really use the money.

He let his hand fall back down to his side. His blue gaze landed upon the metal that he had been working on, its tip still glowing a bright orange. He needed to continue to work it before it cooled and he had to heat it once more. So, with a tired sigh, Thorin reached down and gripped the end of the long piece of metal, his hand wrapped in a piece of cloth to both prevent blisters and shield his hand from the heat. In his other hand, Thorin gripped his hammer. Then, gritting his teeth, he brought the hammer down with repeated blows, the sound of the metal ringing carrying out into the street.

It was through the continuous noise of the pounding of his hammer that Thorin didn't hear the sound of footsteps sloshing through the muddy streets. Suddenly, an all too familiar voice spoke. "Hello, Thorin."

The dwarf prince froze, feeling a deep set irritation rising within him at the sound of that voice. Releasing his hold on the metal and tightening his grip on his hammer, Thorin turned around only to be greeted by Arinya.

The elf wore her hair back in her usual long braid, her hair damp as the rain poured from the sky. She wore usual elven clothing-a green jerkskin embroidered with silver, dark green traveling pants, brown boots that reached her knees, and a long green forest cloak that hung of her shoulders, billowing slightly in the steadily strengthening wind. Her bow and quiver were strung across her back, the feathered ends of her arrows just visible over the top of her shoulder. On her face was a slight, almost sad smile as her green eyes regarded him, only causing him to grow more agitated.

His brow furrowed as his temper flared, a deep scowl appearing on his face. "What are you doing here?" he growled. "Have you come to gloat at how far I have fallen?"

Arinya shook her head, taking a few steps into the forge to escape the rain. "No. I have no interest in such a thing."

Thorin felt his anger running through him like an inferno. That smile was still on her face, like she was taunting him. "What are you doing here?" he asked again.

"I just came to talk. You were not answering any of my letters," she replied very simply.

Thorin glared at her. She was utterly calm, clearly keeping a tight rein on her own temper. Her green eyes regarded him coolly. The way that she looked at him-it was the same look that all elves wore. It was like they looked down on everyone around them-that their immortality put them above everyone else. It was almost like a look of disgust that someone might wear when they overturn a stone and behold all of the squirming and grotesque creatures that lied underneath. Just looked at that look made every muscle in his body tense and quiver with barely contained rage.

"Did you not think that there was a reason I did not answer any of your letters?" he snapped through gritted teeth. "How did you find me?" He turned around and began to clean up his work area, not wanting to look at her. Anytime he looked at her, all he could see was Thranduil leading his army away, betraying his supposed allies.

With his back turned to her, Thorin could hear Arinya move further into the forge. It was eerie how light her footsteps were-barely audible as they landed on the stone floor. She walked over to the work bench and stopped. "Your sister told me," she answered.

Thorin's scowled deepened further. He was definitely going to have a talk with Dis once he returned home.

"And," Arinya began, effectively interrupting his thoughts. "Do not blame Dis. She was only doing what she believed to be right."

"Well, apparently what she believes to be right is incorrect," he snarled, turning to face the elf woman. She was currently leaning rather casually against the workbench, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched him. There was no sign of any remote anger on her face. "The elves are nothing more than our enemy."

Arinya shook her head. "No, Thorin. They are not. You still have friends among them."

Thorin scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I am assuming that you mean you," he said, gesturing to her.

"Among others, yes. Thorin…" She straightened to her full height, her eyes riveted upon his face. "I am still your friend. No matter what you say or do, I will continue to be your friend."

Thorin's dark brow furrowed, a hint of confusion welling up inside him, distilling his anger. "Why?" he asked, the snarl still on his face.

She cocked her head to the side, as if the answer was obvious. "Because that is what friends do. They do not give up on each other." She uncrossed her arms, letting them fall to her side. "So, for as long as it takes, I will suffer whatever insults you wish to throw at me. I will continue to stand by you and your people and support you in any way that I can."

"I do not need your help or support!" he yelled. "Have the elves not done enough? We want nothing more from you!" He took a threatening step towards her, looking her right in the eyes. Arinya did not move, returning his gaze. "And you are no friend of mine. Do you not recall what I said to you the day that Erebor fell?"

Thorin saw Arinya's eyes flick downward, her calm demeanor faltering for the first time. She nodded as she reached up a hand to tuck a stray strand of damp reddish brown hair behind her ear. "You said that you never wanted to see me again," she answered.

"And I meant it. I want you to leave my family and I alone," he thundered. He began to turn around to head back to his work.

"But Thorin," Arinya began, stopping him. Thorin turned halfway around to look at her. "You must see that I am not your enemy," she said, her voice almost pleading. "I hold no ill will towards you or your people."

"Are you done?" he said vehemently.

She seemed to straighten then, her expression becoming chiseled from stone. "You know what? I believe that I am. I have said everything that I need to. You have my word, I will no longer send any letters. I will leave you and your family in peace."

Thorin nodded. He turned around and began to head back to his work. His once again took his grip on the long steel rod that he had been working. The tip wasn't as hot as it should be for him to effectively mold it. Picking it up, he began to make his way to the fire to heat it up once again, his back to the elf woman behind him.

"If there ever comes a time when you finally see the truth of things, feel free to send me a letter. I will be waiting. In the meantime, as we are no longer friends, I think you deserve to have this back." Thorin didn't turn around. He heard her set something metallic onto the workbench with a barely audible clack. "Goodbye, Thorin. I hope that fate looks kindly upon you and your family." With that, he heard her footsteps begin to recede as she exited the forge.

The dwarf prince paused in his work, turning around. In the darkness of the night, Thorin could see Arinya as she retreated down the street, the hood of her cloak drawn up to shield her from the rain. Every footstep seemed to squish down into the muddy earth. Thorin watched her walk away for a moment before turning to look and see what she had left behind. Taking a few steps towards the workbench, Thorin's blue eyes fell upon a small silver ring of dwarven make resting on a silver chain-the same ring that he had given her all those years ago when they were children.

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A/N: Sorry if this chapter was a little worse than others. Truth be told, I'm not that good at writing arguments. I think the previous chapter was a fluke. Oh, well! I just wanted to have one more confrontation between Thorin and Arinya, showing where they stand in their feelings on their current relationship, before moving on.

Now, I would like to address some of the things that I read in some of the wonderful reviews.

Okay, first of all, I would just like to give you an fyi that I will not be skipping directly to the hobbit anytime soon. I will be filling the next 171 years with content. I will be skipping around a lot like I have previously said, so I will be writing the year and how much time has passed since the last chapter. If there is no year posted at the beginning of a chapter, just assume that it takes place within the same year. So, I do have an extensive timeline that I have created for this story which I am following. Like I said, I will be skipping around. The most that I will skip, from what I see now, is 40 years. Otherwise, the gaps in time are smaller than that. So, we have a LONG WAY to go. Please bear with me.

Also, someone mentioned something about the Thranduil confrontation in the previous chapter that I would like to address. They were wondering why he couldn't just offer the dwarves a place to stay now that they had lost their home. To be perfectly honest, I had considered this and had originally written it in, but ended up taking it out. For one, after the elves betrayal, there is NO WAY that the dwarves would want to live with the elves. In addition to them hating each other, the dwarves have a different lifestyle to the elves and would not be even remotely happy living with them. Secondly, if the dwarves did agree to live with the elves, that would mean thousands of them moving into the elves' home in Mirkwood. No doubt that would put a strain on their resources now that they had so many more mouths to feed. So, in the end, I threw that idea away.

If anyone has any other questions or comments that they would like an answer to, feel free to voice it in a review or a PM and I would be more than happy to address it in one of my chapters or return the PM. As always, THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed this story. I means a lot and please keep them coming!


	33. A Very Special Visitor

A/N: Just an fyi for this and future chapters, when you see words or sentences in italics, it means that the person speaking is talking in another language. Just some helpful info!

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TA 2793

18 years later…

Arinya sat perched on one of the low handing branches of the Mallorn trees that comprised the Golden wood. Her back rested upon the trunk of the large tree, the rough silvery bark digging slightly into her back. One leg hung lazily off the side while the other was propped up. Her feet were bare, one taking purchase against the rough grain of the bark to keep her leg upright while the other hung in the air, gaining the occasional tickle as a light breeze blew through the wood. The elf woman's green eyes were downcast, riveted upon the pages of the book she held in her hands.

Finishing one of the pages, Arinya turned the parchment over. Allowing herself a brief pause in her mornings reading, Arinya looked up, taking in her surroundings. Just ahead of her was a small open field filled with long blades of grass that waivered and bended in the light wind. A few of the elven horses grazed here, chomping down upon the blades, their pristine white coats glistening in the sunlight. Arinya could hear every time one of them took a step, their hooves landing with a dull thud, the grass and leaves crunching under its weight. The sun was swimming in a sea of blue sky above, small clusters of white clouds moving lazily as the wind ushered them onward. It was truly the definition of a perfect day.

And yet, it didn't feel so perfect to Arinya. It had been nearly two decades since she had last laid eyes upon her once closest friend, Thorin. Eighteen years since she had cut off contact with him. Years since she had given him back his ring. Despite herself, Arinya found herself still reaching up to grasp the ring that had once hung around her neck. She had once found comfort in its presence, but now it was gone. The only connection she had to her once friend was gone.

To be perfectly honest, Arinya never thought that Thorin would contact her. Dwarves were stubborn and prideful, and Thorin was a perfect example of his race. He was completely and utterly convinced that she was now his enemy and nothing that she said could change his mind. She had said everything she needed to, so now she was content to leave him alone. Somewhere inside her, Arinya desperately wished that he would come around, realizing that his anger was misplaced upon her. But, some part of her knew that it wouldn't happen. Still, there was a small semblance of hope within her. Hope that they would become friends again someday, and not remain strangers to each other. Until that day came, she would wait for as long as it took for the simple reason that he was her friend.

The sound of light footfalls upon the grass drew Arinya's attention to her left. When her green eyes flicked over to her side, she was greeted by the familiar fair face of Haldir. Instantly, a wide smile appeared on the elf woman's face. "_Haldir! When did you return?" _she asked, calling over to him in elvish.

A light smile came onto the marchwarden's face as he walked up to her. "_Just last night."_ He nodded up to her. "_What are you doing up there?"_

"_Reading,"_ Arinya responded very simply. Closing her book, she swung her legs over the side of the branch. Then, with a push forward, Arinya fell to the ground. She landed lightly on her feet with a light thud. She straightened to her full height, a wide grin still on her face. Immediately, she took a step forward and wrapped her arms around Haldir's neck. A moment later, she felt him hold her back. The embrace only lasted a short time before they released one another. Arinya took a step back to look at him better. _"How are you, my friend?"_ she inquired.

"_I am well,"_ he replied. _"I actually came to fetch you. The Lord and Lady request your presence at once at their hall."_

Arinya cocked her head slightly to the side in confusion. "_Did they say why?"_

"_From what I understand, we have a guest."_ The marchwarden gestured for her to go ahead of him. _"After you."_

The brunette nodded stiffly and began to walk forward, making her way to Galadriel and Celeborn's Hall with Haldir close beside her. Her brow was furrowed as she considered what sort of person they would want her to meet. In the back of her mind, Arinya briefly thought that perhaps it was Thorin coming to apologize. But she knew that wasn't so. The dwarf prince would never step within a hundred leagues of this elven kingdom, much less enter its wooded halls. So, throwing away that brief and longing thought, Arinya continued to sift through different theories on the identity of this mysterious visitor.

Midway through their walk, Haldir interrupted her thoughts and began to talk with her. Truth be told, Arinya was glad for the distraction. Some days it became difficult to stop her own thoughts. They chatted back and forth with one another like old friends-which they were. After Haldir had escorted Arinya to Lothlorien thirty three years ago, he returned to his post guarding the northern borders of Lothlorien with his men and two brothers, Orophin and Rumil. But, every so often, Haldir would return to Caras Galadhon. On his visits, he would always make a point to check in with Arinya and see how her training was coming. Seeing as how she was young during that time and nervous to be in a new place so far away from her family, Arinya was having a tough time. The kindness and companionship that she received from Haldir went a long way and the two of them soon became friends.

They would only see each other every few months when he came to Caras Galadhon, but, on occasion, Arinya had ventured out to visit with the marchwarden at his post, with the permission of the Lord and Lady. Truth be told, he seemed rather glad of the distraction. Both Rumil and Orophin described him as being rather grumpy and were glad when she came to visit them. To Arinya, that sort of persona seemed to fit Haldir perfectly.

During both her visits to the flets high in the trees that Haldir and his men occupied or when the marchwarden came into Caras Galadhon, Haldir took the time to teach her appropriate sword play. It was an understatement to say that Arinya wasn't gifted with a blade. Her talent lied with her bow, whose skill she still continued to sharpen in her free time between lessons. In fact, she had challenged Haldir to a contest of archery skill. She had won, much to Orophin and Rumil's amusement. They joked that Arinya should become the new marchwarden. But, Haldir's brothers were not always on her side. While watching more than once as he taught her about swordplay, they would make commentary on her skills, and none of it was positive. But that was just the way that they were. So, for the next few years, Haldir taught her everything that he knew. Different maneuvers and stances, particular enemies' weaknesses, the use of several different styles of blades, even hand-to-hand combat in case she became disarmed. By now, Arinya was actually rather proficient with a blade-particularly the use of dual hand-and-a-half knives and a short sword. In her spare time, she had even become rather good at throwing daggers. It wasn't as if she didn't have the time to perfect each of these skills. What else was she supposed to do with her time? She had nearly read every book in the library and was desperate for a new distraction.

After a few minutes of walking, Arinya and Haldir reached the main hall. The marchwarden fell respectfully behind to shadow her. She guessed it was a sign of her status. Not only was she the niece of the King of the Woodland Realm, she was also the student of one of the most powerful elves in Middle-earth, Lady Galadriel. Directing her gaze forward and adjusting her posture into something more ladylike, Arinya bent down and picked up the hem of her long white dress as she began to ascend the stairs. As she took each step, she wondered who this mysterious guest was, the question blazing in the forefront of her mind. As she neared the top of the stairs, Arinya could hear the sound of voices.

Then, taking one last step, Arinya reached the top. At the far end of the hall were Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, both clad in beautifully woven garments of the purest white and blue, as only a Lord and Lady should deserve. Arinya's green eyes shifted, for there was a third person in this hall.

It was an old man. He was clad all in gray-from his travel worn robe to his pointed hat. Even his large beard was gray. In one hand, he clutched a tall wooden staff. As she looked closer at his hand, Arinya noticed a small gold ring with a bright ruby set in the middle upon his finger. A small bag was slung over one shoulder, possibly carrying what few possessions he had. His face turned in her direction as she ascended the stairs. His face was lined with seams and wrinkles. Two piercing blue eyes gazed at her from beneath a pair of bushy eyebrows. And as Arinya looked into those eyes, she felt that they were depthless. That the man before her was indeed even older than he appeared-much older. Just by looking at him, Arinya knew exactly who this was, for she had seen him more than once in her visions.

A friendly smile appeared from within the bushiness of his beard as he smiled at Arinya. "Ah. So this must be your pupil," he said, obviously directing his observation at Lady Galadriel.

The Lady nodded, though the old man did not see it. She gestured a hand to Arinya, motioning for her to come closer. Respectfully, the elf woman complied and took a few steps across the room to stand beside her mentor. When she turned back around, Arinya realized that Haldir had left. Her green eyes quickly shifted back to the old man before her. "This is Arinya, daughter of Leyandril, brother to the King of the Greenwood." Galadriel directed her gaze downward to her student. "Arinya, this is-"

"Olórin," the elf woman quickly finished for her, her voice filled with awe. "You are one of the Istari-a Maiar." She cast a sheepish glance up at Galadriel, realizing she probably shouldn't have interrupted her. But, both the Lord and Lady seemed to be amused by her enthusiastic outburst.

The wizard chuckled heartily. "I realize now what Lady Galadriel meant when she said you saw much that was beyond your time. You are wise beyond your years, Lady Arinya." The brunette felt herself stiffen in surprise. She had never been called a Lady before. She felt a light blush rising to her cheeks, and it only worsened as he inclined his head slightly in a sign of respect. "The name Olórin has long since been forgotten in this land. I go by Gandalf the Grey now."

"I apologize if I offended you in any way," Arinya said in a rush but stopped as Gandalf held up a hand to stop her.

"There is no harm done. I do not take offense to being called by what was once my true name," he assured her. Gandalf then turned his attention back to Celeborn and Galadriel before them.

Arinya only half listened, her gaze still riveted upon the wizard before her. An Istar-and not just any Istar. Gandalf was a student of the Vala Nienna in the Undying Lands. It was just rather…surreal. Arinya found herself hoping that he wasn't merely passing through so that she could get the chance to talk with him herself.

* * *

Once the initial greeting was complete, Celeborn had someone show Gandalf to his room where he could dispense with his things and get some rest. Later that night, the wizard was invited to join them for dinner. Arinya dined with Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel every night. It was a small bit of kindness on their part. Otherwise, she would be left to eat alone. They offered her some semblance of companionship and Arinya was more than grateful. When Gandalf joined them, he no longer possessed his staff or his pointed hat, letting his gray hair fall in a disheveled fashion around his face. He was seated across from Arinya and immediately dispensed with discussing his recent travels with the Lord and Lady. Arinya was silent, content to listen as the wizard recounted different tales to them. The elf woman wasn't the best contributor of conversation.

After dinner was consumed and the conversation had died down, each of them began to get up and leave. Both Galadriel and Celeborn bade them a good night and retired to their private quarters. Gandalf seemed to follow their example and did the same. Now alone, Arinya found herself drifting through the wood. She briefly encountered Haldir during her wanderings. The two talked for a time, continuing to walk through the wood, before Haldir too decided to retire.

Now, Arinya was left alone. Her wanderings had led her to the shores of the Anduin River. The water gurgled past her in an almost lazy fashion, as if had gone to sleep for the night as well. Star and moonlight danced of the surface of shimmering water, reflecting its light. A light breeze blew through the area, rustling the leaves of the Mallorn trees. It was utterly peaceful, as it was every night within Lothlorien.

Her green eyes locked upon the ever shifting waters of the Anduin, lost in thought. It was due to this that she didn't hear someone walking up behind her. Arinya didn't notice their presence until they were practically standing next to her. Jolting in surprise, the brunette visibly jerked out of her reverie and to see who it was. It was Gandalf.

The Istar stood beside her, his aged blue eyes looking out over the Anduin in much the same fashion as she had only moments before. His hands were clasped behind his back. Noticing her gaze, Gandalf glanced to his side to look at her, a twinkle to his eye. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" he questioned.

"I could ask the same of you," she answered, a light smile playing on her lips. When Gandalf didn't move or respond, she realized that he was still waiting for her to answer his question. Looking forward once more, she replied, "I do not sleep very much anymore."

"Due to the visions?"

Arinya's body stiffened in surprise. She turned to look back at him, her long brown locks sliding over one shoulder. "Lady Galadriel told you," she said as more of a statement of fact than a question.

The wizard nodded. "I hear that they have become somewhat of a burden," he said.

It was Arinya's turn to nod, looking back out over the Anduin. "I see things…things that I never want to see again in my life. Death and destruction. All events that fit this description throughout history, and perhaps the future, all playing out within my mind each night I go to sleep. And yet I know that I will witness such things again with the coming of the next night. Burden is not the word that I would use. It is too gentle."

Gandalf's face turned somber as he looked at her, his bushy gray browns furrowing slightly. "And what word would you use?"

"Curse," she responded bluntly. She turned to look at him then, an almost sad, sheepish smile on her lips. "I'm sorry. I do not mean to sound as if I am scorning the Valar or perhaps even Eru Ilúvatar himself. I am grateful for some aspects of the gifts I was given from them. It has aided me in the past with saving at least a few lives that may have perished without my intervention."

"You refer to the Sack of Erebor at the hands of Smaug," he said. The Istar noticed her confused gaze and nodded slowly. "Yes. Yes, that is the fire drake's name. Smaug. Though, the dwarves have given him more than one title to accompany it."

Arinya nodded her understanding, looking to the river once more.

"You have nothing to fear from the Valar or even Eru himself," Gandalf said suddenly. "They have given you these gifts-these gifts of magic-because they saw something in you. Something that made them believe that you were worthy of receiving this great gift."

"But what could they possible see in me? I do not mean to sound ungrateful, but I never wanted power. I have no use for it," she said, feeling her throat tighten up a little with emotion.

"Perhaps that is exactly why they chose you," the wizard declared.

Arinya turned her head to look at him, her expression perplexed. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"Perhaps you were given this gift because you have no want for power. It is a truly rare trait in these times. But, you are also kind and wise. They knew that you would only use your gifts to help others. You have already proven this when you journeyed to aid the dwarves of Erebor," Gandalf told her.

Arinya's green eyes downcast, fixating upon the grass around the bottom of her white dress. A light breeze blew through the Golden Wood, rustling the leaves in the trees and causing the blades of grass to wane and bend. The elf woman brushed a few strands of brown hair from her face, tucking them behind her pointed ear.

Suddenly, a realization dawned upon Arinya. "Is that why Lady Galadriel did not try to stop me from aiding the dwarves even though she had warned me against it?"

The old wizard's lips pursed into a thin line. "Perhaps. But who can know for sure? Maybe she simply knew that there was no stopping you," he said, a light smile breaking onto his weathered face.

Despite herself, Arinya found a laugh escaping her lips. It felt like it had been years since she had last laughed. And perhaps, that observation was in fact accurate.

Quickly shaking herself out of her thoughts, Arinya decided to change to subject from her. "So, tell me, Gandalf. What is happening in the other lands? As a wanderer, you must know," she said, doing her best to keep the light smile on her face.

The Istar nodded. "Hmmm," was all he said for a moment, his piecing blue eyes feeling like they were looking right through her. Finally he answered. "Well, I suppose the most notable occurrence is the war ensuing between the dwarves and orcs," he said.

Arinya stiffened in surprise, this new information capturing her attention. "A war you say? What clans are involved? And what orcs? Why are they warring with one another now?" she asked, her questions coming in a rush, each one demanding an answer. Despite herself, she couldn't help but have her thoughts briefly stray to Thorin. What had happened since they last saw one another?

Gandalf brought up his hands, slowing her onslaught of questions before she could voice anymore. "Patience. I will answer all your questions. But you must give me a chance to do so first." Arinya nodded, clamping her mouth shut and allowing him to continue. "From what I have heard, the dwarves have declared war on the orcs of the Misty Mountains."

"Do you know why?" she asked, making sure to ask one question at a time.

The wizard shook his head. "I am not entirely sure. I heard that some of the orcs were sending out raiding parties, attacking their people. Perhaps that was enough to start a war."

When Arinya thought about the temper of dwarves, she thought it wasn't out of the realm of possibility. "Who declared war?"

"King Thrór, I believe," he answered.

"So then is the army comprised only of Durin's Folk?" the elf woman inquired.

Gandalf shook his head. "No. They issued a call to arms to all the clans. As far as I can tell, nearly all of them have answered. They have been mustering their forces for the past three years," he told her.

Three years? How had such an important event escaped her nightly visions? Surely she should have seen something, and yet she hadn't. Why was that? "For the past three years they have been mustering their forces. Does that mean the war has commenced now?" she asked, her brow furrowing as she became deep in thought.

Gandalf nodded. His expression became suspicious as he looked at her. "I know what you are thinking and I urge you not to do it. No good can come of it," the old wizard warned.

Arinya's hand tightened into a fist at her side. Every muscle in her body tensed, become gripped with an anger that she had fought to keep under control for the past few years. Clearly it had not lessened in all that time. "Certainly some good can come of it," she said, her voice strangely low. Her green eyes shifted then to the Istar beside her, her gaze hard. "It appears that I am going to enlist in a war."

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A/N: Well, there you have it! Next chapter: Done! Please review and let me know what you think!


	34. Enlistment

The next morning, Arinya kneeled before her pack in the long grass, double checking to make sure that she had everything that she needed. A few change of clothes, her journal with accompanying quill and ink, and an assortment of tough leather armor that could be used for future battles. Now indeed sure that she had everything, Arinya flipped the flap closed, securing the latch. Rising to her full height, she swung the strap of her pack over her shoulder. The bulky bag hit her back lightly before Arinya turned and looped her other arm through the second strap. Reaching up a hand, she tugged her long brown braid from beneath her pack, letting it instead rest upon her shoulder.

She began to bend over to start securing her weapons when she noticed Haldir striding towards her with a determined gait. His normally stoic expression was replaced with one of anger, something that Arinya was sure she hadn't seen from him before. Averting her gaze, the elf woman knelt down onto the soft grass. Gripping the pommel of her mother's dagger, she swiftly tucked it into the confines of her boot. Already, she could hear Haldir's footfalls as they landed one after the other on the earth. Grabbing her two hand-and-a-half swords, Arinya raised to her full height and began to strap them securely around her waist.

"_You cannot do this_," the marchwarden declared when he was close enough, stopping before her. "_This is utter foolishness_."

"_I am glad to hear that you have such faith in me_," she replied dryly. Her pale finger tips worked on tightening the belt on which the sheaths of her knives were, each one resting on either of her hips. She bent down a grabbed her quiver off of the ground, the shafts of the arrows clacking dully against one another.

"_This is not your war. You have no battle experience whatsoever. Throwing yourself into the middle of a war will only result in your death_," Haldir said, his voice filled with both caution and concern.

Arinya chose to ignore him. Instead she focused on securing her weapons. Finished securing her quiver across her back, she lastly bent down to pick up her ash bow. As she straightened up, her hand tightening about the grip of the bow, the elf woman suddenly felt Haldir reach over and grab her forearm, effectively stopping her. His grip was like iron. Arinya found herself freezing, her muscles tightening, but made no move to attempt to pull out of his grip. She already knew such an attempt would be futile. Instead, she kept her green gaze directed downward, refusing to look at him.

"_War has a strong effect on a person. Even if you survive this war, you will be forever changed_," he warned, his voice low. "_I implore you, do not do this."_

"_Both Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel have given me their consent. There is nothing to stop me from enlisting_," she told him.

"_Except the dwarves themselves. They will not accept you. They will turn you away the moment you come within sight of one of their camps,"_ Haldir said. Clearly he was trying everything he could think of to prevent her from going.

"_I will help whether they accept my help or not," _Arinya responded tersely. She none too gently shrugged out of Haldir's hold on her. After an obvious moment of hesitation, the marchwarden released her. As soon as her arm was released, she swiftly slung her bow over her shoulder. Now having everything that she needed, Arinya began to turn and leave. She paused as she walked past Haldir, one of her only friends in the world. The brunette looked over at him, her expression sad. "_Goodbye, my friend,"_ she said rather quietly. _"If I do not see you again in this life, then I look forward to seeing you in the next." _Swiftly, she leaned towards him. Swinging one arm around his neck, Arinya embraced him. But the marchwarden didn't hold her back. She expected as much. She could feel the tension from every muscle in his body. He was probably too angry with her right now.

Releasing him from the one armed hug, Arinya backed away, letting her arm fall back to her side. Her green eyes flicked up to his fair face, her expression almost apologetic. Then, she walked past him, beginning to make her way to the fringes of the Golden Wood and the world beyond.

"_He wouldn't want you to do this,"_ Haldir spoke up suddenly. Arinya stopped midstride, her entire body freezing in place. Her green eyes were wide with surprise and a mix of other emotions that suddenly surged from deep within her. She remained rooted in place with her back to the marchwarden, refusing to turn around. "_And I believe that you know it, too,"_ he finished.

Arinya's head bowed slightly. She reached up a hand to clutch at the string of her bow that was strung across her chest, as if she found some comfort in its presence. "_I know he wouldn't. That is why I am not doing it for him. I am doing it for myself," _she said, her voice strangely low.

Then, letting her hand fall back down to her side, Arinya began walking once more. Her strides took her from Caras Galadhon, through the Golden Wood, and finally out into the rest of Middle Earth. It had been nearly two decades since she had last left the safety of Lothlorien's wooded halls. It felt strange to be leaving it behind. But she wouldn't head back. Even if she had to leave behind the place she had called home for the past thirty years and the few friends she had in the world, she would continue forward. Her path only led forward.

Thorin stood within a large tent, leaning over an old table, his calloused hands gripping its sides. His piercing blue eyes were riveted downward onto an assortment of worn, yellowed maps of different areas around the Misty Mountains, even some of the tunnels that honeycombed their way through the mountains themselves. The prince glanced up briefly as Thráin pointed to one branch of tunnels, discussing strategy with King Thrór. His grandfather stroked his beard thoughtfully as he listened intently to his son's advice and insight.

It had been just over a month since the war between the dwarves and the orcs of the Misty Mountains had begun. It hadn't taken long for the body count to start rising, for both sides. The battles were mainly fought within the dark passages within the mountains, relatively hidden from the rest of the world. But there were a few raids by orcs astride wargs during the night, attacking their camps. Their camps were situated on both sides of the long mountain range, providing a refuge for wounded and a place where supplies could be replenished and weapons sharpened. These camps were relatively safe, being that they were outside the confines of the mountain, and thus are safe during the day. They had a few forward command camps set up within the many tunnels in the mountains that they had already cleared. These were not as safe as the large camps outside the mountains though. Thorin was within one of the main camps outside the confines of the mountains at present.

He had been helping to the best of his ability during the war, as had Frerin. Due to their inexperience in battle, the brothers had each been placed under the command of different leaders who directed units of soldiers. Frerin was with their father's unit while Thorin served under King Thrór. Thorin actually found this to be a logical choice. Frerin was a lot like their father. Both possessed a keen and sharp mind. They were both adept at thinking situations through with a logical precision, their strategic knowledge giving them a distinct advantage over their enemy. It truly was a good fit and Frerin appeared to be learning much.

Thorin, on the other hand, was learning under his grandfather. Perhaps it was because he needed to learn more about how a king leads and inspires his men. Someday he could become king-or at least he might be if they ever manage to reclaim Erebor.

He wouldn't deny that his home was always on his mind. It pained him to think about it-twisting his heart agonizingly within his chest. He had never wanted to leave but they were horrendously outmatched. To stay would have meant the death of his people. But there was a small ray of hope for their people, for a prophecy had been proclaimed. When the birds of yore return to the mountain, the reign of the beast will end. One of their seers had predicted it. So, Thorin held onto hope as he waited to hear any whisper of the prophecy coming true. It had been twenty three years since Erebor fell and he had been waiting all that time with baited breath.

Suddenly, a dwarven soldier pushed his way through the flap of the tent. Thorin jerked out of his reverie, straightening to his full height as he released his grip on the sides of the table. Thrór and Thráin's conversation stopped as they each turned their heads to look at this new figure that stood before them, each of their gazes expectant.

The soldier hurriedly bowed low before his lords before straightening up, his heavy armor clanking loudly as he did so. "My Lords. There is an elf here to see you," he told them.

Thorin felt his stomach drop, as if he suddenly felt sick. "Oh, no," he muttered under his breath. He reached up a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, as if he now had a headache.

Thrór and Thráin both exchanged confused and irritated looks. The king brought up his hand, which still bore one of the few remaining dwarven rings of power, and made a shooing gesture. "Tell them to leave. We have no desire to consort with those…creatures," he spat. Thráin nodded in agreement to this.

The soldier shifted on his feet, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "We tried to, sire, but she refused to leave without an audience with you first," he said in a rush.

"Oh, no," Thorin repeated again, still saying it so low that no one else could hear him. He squeezed his eyes shut as his fingers continued to massage the sides of his nose, as if that would make what was happening simply go away. "It is happening all over again." Thorin let his hand drop to his side. His eyes opened and shifted to his grandfather for his reaction, which appeared to be what his father was doing as well.

King Thrór's gaze turned dark. Thorin actually thought he was going to give the soldier permission to get her to leave by 'any means necessary.' He was silent, as if considering something.

Thráin leaned in close to his father. "Perhaps we should simply hear the elf's words. Then, they will leave without any unnecessary confrontation," he advised, clearly his thoughts mirroring Thorin's own.

The dwarven king shifted his faded blue gaze to look at his son with an almost irritated glare. Even the mention of an elf seemed to put the old king in a foul mood. Not that Thorin didn't completely agree with him, for he felt the exact same way.

After a moment of silence, Thrór sighed, throwing up his hands in defeat. He looked back to the soldier who was patiently awaiting his response. "Very well. Show them in," he declared in an exasperated tone.

Bowing once more, the soldier turned and disappeared through the tent flap with a clanging of heavy armor. They didn't have to wait long before he remerged into the tent, followed closely by just who Thorin thought it would be: Arinya.

She was certainly dressed like she was ready to see some action, judging from the weapons on her. From the two hand-and-a-half blades secured on her hips to her bow and quiver strapped across her back. Thorin suspected that she even had a dagger tucked safely away in the confines of her boot, just like she did when they were younger. She was clad in a typical elven ware, clearly designed for durability. There was a long green jerkskin with swirling embroidery, a clearly elven touch. A pair of dark brown traveling pants were tucked into knee high boots, the bottoms of the boots already caked with mud and dirt from her trek. A long forest cloak was secured around her neck, hanging slightly askew off one shoulder. Her brown, almost reddish tinted, hair was secured back into her ever present braid, any loose strands tucked safely away behind her pointed ears.

As Arinya stepped before the three lords, her posture was relaxed. Her hands rested comfortably at her side. Her green eyes were riveted upon the face of King Thror, directing all her attention onto him. For just the briefest moment, though, Thorin saw her eyes flick in his direction. Her expression was stoic and her eyes unreadable. Then, as quickly as she had, the elf woman shifted her gaze to the dwarf king once more, as if she had never looked at Thorin in the first place.

"You," Thrór growled, his faded blue eyes alighting with recognition. He raised a ringed finger and pointed it menacingly at her. "You're the elf that appeared before us just before Smaug laid waste to our halls! How dare you show your face here!"

Arinya didn't even flinch. "I have come for other business," she stated very simply.

"What other business?" Thráin asked. He appeared to be more composed and calm than his father, but was still angered by her mere presence nonetheless. "Come to herald another tragedy to befall our people? Some message or warning come from the lips of the Harbinger of Destruction herself?"

Still, Arinya didn't not react. Her posture remained composed and relaxed. Her eyes did not stray once from their faces, her expression passive. "I have not come here to deliver a warning or a message of any kind."

Thorin looked at her with a surprised expression. She wasn't here because of something she had seen in her visions? Then what was she doing here?

The brunette clasped her hands in front of her. "I have come because of the war," she said finally.

Thorin rolled his eyes, his already irritated state rising. He crossed his arms over his broad chest as he looked at her coldly. "Have the elves come to tell us what wars we may or may not wage?" Arinya's gaze shifted now to him, regarding him with a careful expression. "Your people do not hold sway over what decisions we make. This war will not end simply because you wish it," he declared, his voice filled with venom.

Arinya shook her head slowly, almost as if she was in disbelief. Thorin felt his hands ball into fists as his temper flared, burning within his chest. The elf woman looked at him, utterly calm. "Thorin, I did not come to stop your war with the orcs. I came to join it."


	35. A New Change

All three of the dwarves within that tent stared at Arinya with equal amounts of sheer shock. Their expressions were practically openmouthed, but the elf either didn't care or pretended not to notice. They just stared at her, completely speechless for several long moments.

Finally, King Thrór was the first to answer-or at least in a way he was. He actually started to laugh. Both Thráin and Thorin looked at him, wondering if he had gone mad. "Such a proposition is utterly absurd!" he exclaimed as his booming laughter dying down. "An elf does not fight in a dwarven war!"

Arinya appeared unfazed by the dwarf king's reaction. "And yet, one stands before you, ready, willing, and able to lend her aid," she stated bluntly.

Thráin's dark brow knitted together in obvious confusion. He regarded her for a moment, as if gauging something about her. Finally he said, "Why do you wish to join a war? It is not yours to undertake." From the tone of his voice, Thorin thought he actually sounded curious.

Thorin's head snapped in his direction. Was he actually considering this? Actually considering letting an elf in among their ranks? Such a thing couldn't be allowed, especially her. She was the very symbol of their enemy-related to the bloodline of the woodland king himself. Such a person cannot and will not be trusted. Ever.

"It is a matter that I do not discuss openly and has no weight upon your decision on whether or not to let me join you in your war," she answered, her voice firm.

Thráin straightened, his posture becoming irritated once more as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I believe that it should be for us to decide whether it does or does not have any weight." He beckoned to her. "Let us hear it."

"With all due respect, this is a personal matter. One that is none of your concern," she responded, a hard edge to her voice.

Thráin's eyes narrow dangerously, but before he could speak, King Thrór cut in. "We have no need for your kind among our ranks. Your request to join us is denied," he declared strongly, a furious scowl on his face. "You will leave immediately," he ordered. He snapped his fingers and the soldier that had escorted Arinya into the tent stepped forward, ready to lead her out.

Arinya didn't even hesitate. She took a sudden step forward, her expression fierce. "If you choose to deny my enlistment, then that is your choice. But, know this. If you deny me, I will still fight the orcs of the Misty Mountains, with or without your aid. So, choose now, which scenario sounds better to you?" she finished strongly. She crossed her arms over her chest, as if that would somehow further her point.

Thorin's eyes narrowed. Something was different about her. She appeared harder, tougher-perhaps even haunted. By looking at her, he knew instantly something had happened since they had last seen one another. But it was not something he needed to care about.

Thorin glanced over to his grandfather. He thought that the king looked like he was about to explode. His entire body was tensed and shaking with a barely contained anger. His large hands were balled into fists, resting firmly upon the surface of the table. His teeth were gritted and his nostrils flared. Finally, he growled, "Take her outside. Do not let her out of your sight."

The soldier nodded his affirmation. He turned his armored body to face the elf woman. With the loud clanking of metal on metal, he gestured with his lance to the exit of the tent. Arinya seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if torn on whether she should comply or stay for a while longer to plead her case. In the end, she chose to leave. Without so much as a backwards glance or a change in expression, the brunette strode forward, disappearing through the tent flap with the dwarven soldier close on her heels.

Instantly, Thorin turned to look at his grandfather. "Why did you not send her away? Why are you having her wait?" he asked, his questions spilling forth. His tone sounded extremely irritated, an effect of Arinya's presence. King Thrór turned his gray head to look at his grandson. When he did not answer right away, Thorin felt a sinking feeling. "You cannot possibly believe that she should join us!" the prince exclaimed in disbelief.

"You heard the elf," Thrór growled, his voice low. His blue eyes flashed dangerously as he looked downward at the maps that had held their attention mere moments ago. "If we deny her a place among our ranks, she will continue to fight without our aid."

Thorin looked at his grandfather with a perplexed expression, not quite understanding what he was getting at. "And how does this affect us? Either she dies with us or she dies alone. It is none of our concern," he said icily.

"You are not understanding, Thorin," his father spoke up suddenly. Thorin shifted his blue gaze to look at Thráin. "If we deny her, and she does indeed stay true to her word and begin to fight on her own, what do you think will happen? She could give away our positions, compromise battle strategies, even cause more death on our side without even realizing it. She cannot be allowed to go unchecked," he stated, his voice clearly showing that he wasn't happy about the situation either.

King Thrór shook his head, his weathered face contorted into a scowl. "She has effectively backed us into a corner and given us only one option: let her join us," he said through gritted teeth.

The prince scoffed. "So then she just gets her way?" Thorin asked in a disbelieving tone.

Thráin nodded slowly. "It appears for now, yes. It isn't as if we can simply kill her ourselves. We cannot fight two wars at once," he said, his voice filled with meaning.

There was a silence among the three of them, different scenarios of such a venture undoubtedly circulating through their minds before being tossed away. To be perfectly honest, Thorin didn't like the idea of killing Arinya, or even having her die in the war she wanted to join so much. Perhaps it was the residual feelings of the person he had thought was his friend. Or perhaps he simply didn't relish the thought of killing an elf, no matter how much he hated them.

"So what do we do with her then?" Thráin asked his father, breaking through Thorin's reverie.

Thrór sighed heavily. He braced his hands onto the table and leaned forward, not once taking his eyes from the maps before him. "We will have to let her join us. There is no other option without compromising our own endeavors," he said.

Thorin shook his head, not entirely believing what was happening. He crossed his arms over his chest. "The other clans will not approve of this. If they hear of an elf among our ranks-regardless of the reasoning-how do you think they will react? They will more than likely pull their support," he said with a hard edge to his voice.

Thráin nodded in agreement. "He is right," he said, seconding his son's thought.

"They will not know. We will put her with a unit out of the way and less likely to encounter many other battalions," Thrór began. He paused. He reached up a hand and stroked his large beard thoughtfully. "We'll put her with Fundin's unit. They are a scouting group, more separated from the others. It would keep her out of the way."

Thráin shook his head. "Fundin will not like this," he muttered.

"We are not asking him to," the king answered. Thrór looked up suddenly, directing his attention to his grandson. "Thorin, I want you to escort the elf to her new unit and inform Fundin of the situation. Be sure that you request he keep a special eye on her."

Thorin nodded stiffly and began to turn and walk towards the exit to the tent. He was still in a mix of disbelief and anger at the thought of an elf-Arinya-joining their war, so he didn't argue. It was as if her mere presence was guaranteeing their imminent defeat. He utterly despised having her anywhere near him. At least for now he could pass her off on someone else's unit and have her be out of his sight and, hopefully, out of his mind.

* * *

Arinya leaned up against a barrel, no doubt filled with supplies for the war, outside of the command tent. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she almost casually surveyed the camp. It was night; the stars and moon were shining in the sky, casting their pale glow down upon the world. From everywhere in the camp, there was the sound of activity. The ringing of a hammer striking metal as a blacksmith created or repaired weapons and armor. From somewhere deeper in the camp, Arinya could hear the cries of the wounded, probably coming from the medical tent. There was row after row of tents, each one given a specific purpose. Whether it was to give the soldiers a place to sleep, store supplies, serve as armories, or a place to heal the wounded. Torches lined the walkways between the rows, illuminating the area with their flickering orange glow.

Arinya tightened her arms around herself. She cast an apprehensive look towards the tent, waiting to hear what their answer would be. It was a good sign that they didn't simply send her away, right?

A dwarven soldier passed in front of her, his arms laden with weapons of all sorts. His dark eyes shifted in her direction as he passed and instantly narrowed, filling with hatred. He uttered something then-more than likely a curse or some heinous insult in Khuzdul. Arinya didn't even react and looked away, letting the soldier pass. She could hear his footsteps retreating further into the camp until they were gone altogether. If she was going to join this war alongside the dwarves, then she was going to have to get used to the fact that none of them wanted her here. She was going to have to deal with plenty more insults and curses directed at her. The best way to get through this was going to be to simply not react and create a conflict. It would also, perhaps, give them a reason to no longer allow her to stay. She didn't want that.

Movement to her right caught her attention. Arinya's green eyes flicked over just in time to see Thorin exit the tent. His blue eyes briefly scanned the area until they landed on Arinya. As the light of a nearby torch fell upon his face, the brunette noticed a furious scowl on his face. It was very clear that he was not pleased with her presence. He looked her up and down for a moment, his expression one almost of disgust, before his blue eyes flicked back up to her face.

He gestured to her. "Follow me," he said, his voice dangerously low. Without waiting for her reaction, Thorin turned and began to walk down one of the pathways between the rows of tents.

Hurriedly, Arinya pushed away from the barrel and lengthened her strides until she caught up with him. She chose to walk behind him instead of beside him. She didn't exactly want to see the look of pure hatred on his face if she walked beside him. Instead of a fierce expression to deal with, though, Arinya had to look at his body language. His broad shoulders were set, every muscle in his body tensed. She could see one of his hands resting on the hilt of his sword. Arinya felt a cautious feeling well up inside her, as if she worried that he was debating about using his sword right then and there and be rid of this problem he believed her to be once and for all.

They didn't talk at all, Arinya simply following Thorin as he led the way through a maze of tents. They passed many other dwarves in their trek, each of them throwing her looks of utter loathing, some of them even hurling insults. Arinya just kept her gaze directed forward, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing how much those insults bothered her.

After what appeared to be ten minutes of walking, Thorin broke the silence. He didn't stop or even turn his head to look at her, keeping his gaze directed forward. "Why are you here?" he asked. From the sound of it, he was talking through gritted teeth.

Arinya shifted her green gaze, focusing on the back of his dark head. She wasn't sure if it was a good sign or a bad one that he was talking to her. She had thought that perhaps he had been giving her the silent treatment-only speaking to her when it was deemed necessary-but apparently that was not so. She was silent for a brief moment, as if trying to decide whether or not to answer him. "I told you," she said finally. "It is a personal matter and is none of your concern."

Thorin stopped suddenly, whirling around so quick that Arinya took a step back despite herself, fearing that he might actually strike her. His blue eyes flashed dangerously. "I am making it my concern," he growled in response. "Is this some plot on your part to make me repent my decision to cut you from my life? Because if this your intent, then I assure you, you will be waiting a long time before you hear something like that from me."

Arinya scoffed and shook her head. "That is not my intent."

Thorin opened his arms in a disbelieving gesture. "Then what is it that you want from me?"

The elf woman's brow furrowed, her lips contorting into a frown. "I want nothing from you." She pointed a finger menacingly at him. "And don't you dare try to make this about you," she snapped.

Thorin's scowl only deepened as his arms returned to his sides. "Then what am I supposed to think?" he asked in an exasperated tone.

Arinya shrugged. "To be perfectly honest, Thorin, I do not care what you think. I am done," she stated, her voice sounding weary.

The dwarf prince stared at her coldly for a moment before he turned sharply on his heel and began to stride in the direction they had originally been heading. After a moment, Arinya hurriedly strode after him. For the rest of the walk, neither of them talked. Thorin simply led the way with Arinya following. As they walked, Arinya briefly wondered if the day would ever come that he could see clearly-see that she was not his enemy.

After a few tense moments of walking in silence, Thorin slowed his brisk gait. Arinya took a moment to look around at her surroundings. They were near to the edge of the camp, only a few rows of tents between them and the open expanse of the rest of Middle earth. To the west, Arinya could clearly see the Misty Mountains rising up over the land, mere shadowy giants in the darkness of night. In front of them was a small battalion of soldiers. They were all congregated close to one another, gathering their belongings and weapons together. It was apparent that they were getting ready to set out soon. A few of them looked up as the two figures approached. When they recognized Thorin, they nodded their heads in a respectful greeting. But as they shifted to Arinya, their faces contorted into ones of confusion and loathing. That was certainly a look she was going to have to get used to.

From the throng of soldiers, a solitary figure stepped forward to meet Thorin. Arinya found herself hesitating as she saw him step forward. He was few inches taller than Thorin, easily the largest dwarf Arinya had ever seen. Tattoos were laced up and down his arms and even over sections of his face. His head was bald but he had a large brown beard laden with an array of braids and clasps. A massive war hammer was strapped across his armored back, its hilt just visible above one shoulder. His entire body was powerfully built, corded in muscle. As he stepped forward from the rest of the dwarves, sharp brown eyes shifted briefly from Thorin's face to Arinya's and back again.

For the first time since their little argument, Thorin turned around to look at Arinya. "Wait here," he said tersely. The elf woman nodded in response. Turning his attention forward once more, the dwarf prince strode towards the intimidating dwarf, who had stopped to watch his approach.

Arinya crossed her arms over her chest uncomfortably. She could feel the weight of several pairs of eyes upon her, their hatred filled gazes boring into her sides. She glanced at them briefly before looking away. She shifted on her feet as her vivid green eyes looked back to Thorin and the other large dwarf.

They were talking quietly, but Arinya's elven hearing could still hear them well enough to know that they were speaking in Khuzdul, probably to prevent her from over hearing them. After a few moments of talking, the elf woman saw the other dwarf tense up, his posture becoming deeply irritated. His speech began to come more rapidly and increase in volume. He clearly wasn't happy. But after a few words from Thorin, he fell silent. He crossed his arms over his broad chest as he listened. When Thorin finished, he was quiet not saying anything. Finally, he nodded, clearly unhappy but not willing to refuse his prince. With that, the two of them turned and began to head over to Arinya. The elf woman felt ever muscle in her body tense as they neared her.

When they reached her, they stopped. Thorin gestured to the large dwarf who crossed his arms over his chest as he looked up and down. "This is Fundin, son of Farin. He is the leader of the company you are now assigned to. You will follow his every order. Is that understood?" Thorin asked, a firm edge to his voice.

Arinya glanced over at Fundin warily before looking back to Thorin. She nodded. "Yes."

"Good." The dark haired prince turned to look at Fundin. He clapped a hand on the large dwarf's shoulder. "Good luck, Fundin. You are going to need it." With one last dark look directed at Arinya, Thorin turned on his heel and began to head back the way they came.

Arinya watched him walk away until he was nothing more than a shadowy shape in the darkness, and finally disappeared altogether around the side of one of the many tents within the camp. She watched the area where he had been only moments ago before looking back to Fundin.

The large dwarf was regarding her with a hard expression. It appeared as if he was trying to gauge something about her-perhaps her trustworthiness? Arinya found herself shifting on her feet, uncomfortable under his intense gaze. Finally, he gestured to her. "Is this everything you have?" he asked in a deep baritone.

Arinya glanced down briefly at herself, as if to remind herself of just what she had brought with her. Her green eyes flicked back up to his face as she nodded. "Yes."

Fundin's expression didn't change, remaining chiseled from stone. "Do you know how to use those weapons of yours?" he inquired. He pointed from the bow and quiver across her back to the two long knives secured on her waist before letting his hand fall back to his side.

Arinya nodded once again. "Yes. I have some experience," she responded.

"Have you ever seen battle?" Fundin asked, continuing to inquire about her.

Arinya hesitated for the briefest moment. Her thoughts shifted to her encounter with the wolves and even the bear all those years ago alongside Thorin. Finally, the brunette shrugged. "Somewhat. I have never fought in an actual battle, though," she answered honestly.

Fundin's eyes narrowed as he looked at her, clearly displeased with her answer. "Then pray that your death is swift and painless," he stated harshly. Arinya felt her stomach twist, making her suddenly feel sick. He turned around and began to head back to his men. "We are leaving within the hour. Be ready or we leave without you."

* * *

A/N: There you go. Another chapter done! Please let me know what you think! Oh, and let me know what you think of Fundin. Anytime I tried to picture him, I always saw him as being somewhat like Dwalin. I would love to hear your opinions.

As always, welcome to any new followers and favorites and thank you to my ever faithful reviewers! I look forward to reading your thoughts and opinions anytime I post another chapter and am eager to hear what you think about this chapter and others to come!


	36. The Wetting of a Blade

It had been three days since Arinya had joined Fundin's unit. Shortly after they departed from the main camp, the company had climbed the slopes of the Misty Mountains until they entered one of the many entrances into the tunnels. Now, Arinya was getting to see just what kind of a squad she was assigned to.

It was a scouting group. Their mission was to march through the labyrinth of tunnels underneath the extensive mountain range, mapping uncharted passageways and tracking enemy movements. If they happened to find a group or nest of orcs somewhere in those passageways, they would do one of two things. If the orcs they find are small in number, then they would simply take care of them themselves. If the number of orcs is far beyond them, then they would send a runner to find the nearest battalion of soldiers who patrol the tunnels that they have already cleared, give them the location of the discovered orcs, and then the soldiers would come in and secure the area by eliminating the orcs. It was an effective system. Or so Arinya believed. But so far, they had yet to find any orcs in the tunnels since she had joined them.

Part of her was relieved. She had never been in a real battle before. There had been the incident with the bear, and even the wolves all those years ago, but fighting orcs was much different. With animals, there was at least a degree of pattern-predictability. With orcs, there didn't seem to be. Their movements were chaotic and unpredictable. Arinya had seen more than her fair share of orc attacks in her visions-seen the blood and carnage they caused. She feared that when her first battle finally came, that she would hesitate out of sheer fear as those images arose in her mind. That hesitation would be her downfall and get her killed. She needed to act swiftly. So, throughout their entire three day trek through the dark tunnels, Arinya had been mentally going over her lessons with Haldir-remembering the advice he had given her for combating their ilk. Even with that knowledge ever present within her mind, Arinya still couldn't still the fear of her upcoming first real battle.

One of the other dwarves roughly slammed his shoulder into Arinya as he passed her, jerking her out of her reverie. He made sure to throw her a look of pure and utter loathing for good measure before his head turned to look at the path ahead. Arinya just glanced at him briefly before turning her attention forward once more. It was her own fault. She had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she had started to slow down, drifting into his path as she did so. Still, the other dwarves in her company didn't miss an opportunity to show her just how much they despised her and her kin.

Arinya didn't waste her breath. She didn't even attempt to change their minds about her. She knew that they wouldn't be swayed by anything she had to say, so why should she even bother? If she had tried, she may have just made the whole situation worse by making the dwarves call her a liar for saying she wasn't their enemy and held no ill will towards them. In the end, it was simpler to just keep her mouth shut, which is exactly what she had done since they had set out from the main camp three days ago. For three days, Arinya had not uttered a single word. Not that she needed to. The only times that the others even paid her any heed was when they decided to hurl another hateful insult at her. The elf woman wouldn't lie-she knew that eventually those insults would begin to wear down on her. But for now, she was able to bear it.

In order to endure less comments, Arinya chose to walk at the back of their group as they marched through the dark tunnels. A few other dwarves hung back-more than likely as a gesture of mistrust as they didn't feel like they could let her out of their sight.

The brunette glanced briefly to her left and right, at the dwarves who were flanking her, before returning her green gaze forward once more. Sometimes, it didn't even feel as if Arinya was really there. Like she was invisible to the dwarves-which she essentially was anytime they finished with their insults. Arinya had tried to pay attention and possibly learn some of the other dwarves' names but ultimately failed. The other dwarves preferred to speak in Khuzdul to one another-more than likely an attempt to keep Arinya on the outskirts of their group. Arinya tried to listen in and see if she could discern any names but if there were any stated, they blended seamlessly in with the rest of their conversation-indistinguishable from the rest of the words spoken in Khuzdul. So, in the end, she gave up trying. As of now, the only one whose name she knew was Fundin.

Arinya did her best to focus her eyes on the path ahead. The dwarves carried a few torches, but not enough to fully illuminate the vast tunnel that they were currently exploring. Arinya had trouble with the darkness, for she was so used to relying on her sight. Now though, she was forced to rely on and further hone one of her other senses-hearing. The dwarves didn't seem to have the same issues that she did, though. In fact, they seemed at home in this near darkness. They were surefooted and confident as they marched ever deeper into the mountain. Arinya half wondered to herself if dwarves could see in the dark but instantly threw it away. If they could, then they wouldn't need torches. But surely they must see in the dark better than most. Well, at least better than her. At any rate, she could still rely upon her hearing which gave her an advantage.

Suddenly, the dwarves ahead of Arinya halted. Her green eyes snapped up to the forefront of their company, her gaze wary now. Her eyes locked onto Fundin at the head of the group, his large form just visible from the small amount of light provided by the flickering orange light of the nearby torches. His hand was held up in a sign to stop the march of his men. He didn't turn around, keeping his eyes directed forward and focused into the darkness. He appeared to be listening for something.

Arinya closed her eyes, mentally drowning out all the other noise provided by the grinding of the dwarves' metal armor as they shifted on their feet. She quietly listened, but she didn't hear anything. Her eyes opened, focusing on Fundin once more who had still not moved. Why had he stopped them?

Then, she heard it. It sounded almost like dozens of tiny raindrops falling on stone. As the elf listened, she realized that it was drawing ever closer to where their small company was standing. As the noise continued to draw closer, Arinya finally realized what it was. It was claws. It was the sound of several pairs of claws clacking on stone with every footstep. Arinya felt a pit developing in her stomach. There was a group of goblins out there in the darkness, and they were heading right for them.

With a sharp gesture from Fundin, the dwarves all unsheathed their weapons. The ringing of steel echoed off the stone walls of the tunnel. Fortifying her will and taking a steadying breath to still her ever growing apprehension, Arinya reached down and gripped the hilts of her two hand-and-a-half blades and drew them swiftly from their sheaths.

Normally, Arinya would have preferred to use her bow, but she didn't have that luxury. A bow was to be used in an open, well lit area where she could easily pick her targets. If she used her bow here, in this near darkness in such close quarters, she ran the risk of accidentally burying an arrow in one of her dwarven comrades. That was certainly not something she wished to do. So, for the duration of her time in the tunnels, Arinya was going to be forced to set aside her bow and rely on her blades to defend herself.

Arinya tightened her grip on the hilts of her blades, her knuckles turning white. She quickly glanced down at her hands only to see them visibly shaking. Further tightening her grip, her green gaze shifted upward once more. All of the other soldiers appeared to be readying themselves as well, shifting their grips on their weapons into a more comfortable position. Arinya briefly wondered how many battles these soldiers had seen or how many soldiers were wounded or killed before she had joined them.

The brunette mentally shook her head, trying to rid herself of such thoughts. She couldn't afford to be distracted. She needed to focus upon the battle to come.

Suddenly, Arinya heard the footfalls of the approaching orcs quicken towards them. They had more than likely heard the unsheathing of their weapons-or perhaps had smelled them. It didn't really matter how they had been discovered. All that mattered now was surviving the encounter and eliminating the foul creatures.

Then, all at once, the orcs broke through the veil of darkness ahead of them. They wasted no time and immediately leapt onto the offensive. They uttered shrill cries that sounded like haunting laughter. They drew their roughly sharpened swords and raised them over their heads as the charged the dwarves. The small company was ready though. Uttering a war cry of their own, they leapt into the fray.

Arinya hesitated, hanging back as she watched the ensuing battle with a wide eyed look. Bodies moved and writhed in the near darkness. Occasionally, she would glimpse a flash of steel and the spurt of black blood. She felt her heart beating wildly in her chest as fear gripped her. She knew she should join the fight but something was holding her back with an iron tight grip. Adrenaline was pumping rapidly through her entire body, only heightening every sense and emotion that currently held her. Every part of Arinya's body was tensed and rigid. Everything around her seemed to slow down until it nearly stopped altogether. She had wanted to be a part of this war. Part of that meant that she would have to be in a battle. She knew that when she had decided to enlist. So, why was she so afraid?

The menacing glint of a blade caught Arinya's eye. Her green eyes focused upon its source. It was an orc brandishing a wicked looking short sword in one of its clawed hands. Its attention turned on her frozen form as it pushed its way out of the mass of fighting bodies. Its lips curled up in a snarl, revealing sharp, rotten teeth. Seizing its chance in her indecisive state, it charged her with blinding speed.

But as Arinya saw the orc rushing her-saw the blade poised above its head as it prepared to deliver a deadly blow-she snapped out of her fear locked state. Instinct and self-preservation took hold as all her fears and doubts were forced to the back of her mind while all her training came to the forefront. Her grip on her two long knives tightened further as Arinya raised them in a defensive manner. She spaced her feet into a fighter's stance. As she did so, the brunette was briefly reminded of when Thorin had tried to teach her about swordplay all those years ago-when they were still friends that is. So, taking a quick but deep breath, the elf woman relaxed her shoulders as she readied herself for the rapidly approaching orc's onslaught.

Before he was even within her reach the orc struck out at her, its unusually long arms allowing it to be the first to strike. Its sharp blade sliced through the air, intent on severing her head from the rest of her body. Instinct took over her reflexes as Arinya leaned backwards. She watched as if time had suddenly slowed to a near halt as the orc's crude blade cut through the air mere inches from her face. As soon as it had safely passed over her, Arinya immediately straightened to her full height once more.

As she rose, she saw the orc's long left arm winding up with the blade to strike her down from above. Reacting to this, the elf raised her own left arm and effectively blocked the attempted attack. The blades met in the air with a loud clang. She was momentarily stunned by how strong this creature was as he pressed his weapon hard against her own. As Arinya looked past their connected blades, she saw the orc's lips curl back into an angry snarl. His right arm free and weaponless, he brought it up, sharp claws bared, as it swung through the air straight towards her face.

But Arinya's right arm was free as well. And it held another long knife. Her reflexes lightning quick, Arinya brought up her weapon and in one swift move severed the orc's outstretched arm. It was strange. When Arinya had imagined severing a body part, which she knew she would have to do in this war eventually, she had always thought that there would be more resistance when cutting through the flesh and bone. But there was next to none. Truth be told, she was grateful. She didn't want to have to feel such a thing. So, she inwardly thanked herself for remembering to have her blades sharpened.

As the now severed limb fell to the ground with a thud, black blood spurted forth from the stump. It splattered over her arm as it finished its offensive arc. Arinya had to restrain herself from jumping back in shock, but that did not stop her eyes from widening in horror. Blood came with war. She knew that. But that didn't stop her from feeling sick from the sight of it, knowing that she was the reason it had been spilt. She had to inwardly remind herself over and over: Don't hesitate, don't hesitate.

And she didn't. The orc jerked back, screaming wildly in pain. As he pulled back, his pressure of his blade upon Arinya's own lessened until it vanished altogether as he withdrew. The crude sword dropped from his clawed hand as he reached to clutch at his severed limb, seemingly desperate to stop to bleeding and the pain. Now defenseless with no weapon and having his attention momentarily diverted, Arinya seized her chance. With the blade in her left hand, she arced it swiftly through the air until it cut straight through one side of the orc's neck, through the jugular, and out the other side. The head fell to the ground with a thud, the body falling after it a moment later, black blood spurting forth from the neck where the head was once attached.

Even though she knew she was still in the midst of a battle, Arinya still allowed herself some semblance of a sigh of relief. She had just survived her first fight with an orc-had just killed her first orc. Somewhere in the pit of her stomach, the elf just felt sick. Orc or not, she had just taken a life.

But she didn't have long to ponder this fact. As her vivid green gaze rose from the bloodied, decapitated body laying on the ground before her, she glimpsed the glint of a blade as it reflected the light of the temporarily discarded torches. If she hadn't looked up, Arinya would have had her own head severed from her body.

So, quicker that she knew she could move, Arinya leaned forward, the blade whizzing through the air just above her back. A moment later, she straightened to her full height. Bringing up her blade, the brunette attempted to catch the orc off guard, her long knife cutting through the air, intent on striking him down from above.

But the orc saw this. He raised his own wicked looking blade in a defensive motion. Their blades connected in the air with a loud clang. Arinya gritted her teeth as she pressed down upon it. Then, in one swift motion, she jerked her blade to the side, taking the orc's with her. Now left wide open, the orc's only option for the moment was to strike at her with one of its long, clawed arms. This seemed to be their go to move when they were cornered. Arinya leaned back just enough so that the clawed hand sailed past her face, a mere inch away from striking her across her face. As soon as it had passed by, she straightened up. But what she didn't see was that the orc had dropped his blade and now was sending his other hand towards her, his claws intent on slashing through her throat.

Arinya saw it just in time. She managed to get out of the way- mostly. The attempted attack missed her throat, but still managed to claw her upper arm. Arinya could actually feel her skin tearing and tugging as the orc's claws ripped through her arm. A second later, blood began to pour from the wound, coating both her torn sleeve and the orc's claws. The brunette instinctively gripped her wounded arm, gritting her teeth, refusing to utter even a sound to give the orc any semblance of satisfaction at the sight of her in pain.

As she was momentarily distracted by the pain in her arm, the orc tried to seize his chance and strike her down. He grabbed his discarded blade, raised it over his head, and brought it down. But Arinya still maintained her grip upon her own weapon and raised it defensively above her head. The blades met in the air. The orc pressed down his blade further against her own. Arinya gritted her teeth, strengthening her resolve.

Then, swiftly, Arinya jerked her blade to the side as she had before. Then, using her wounded arm, she balled her hand into a fist and punched the orc in its grotesque face. Arinya couldn't stop the yelp that escaped her lips as the movement jarred her wound- not to mention the fact that the feeling of her knuckles colliding with the orc's jaw was painful as well.

The foul creature staggered back, momentarily caught off guard by the blow. The elf seized this opportunity. Whirling around, she swiftly brought up her leg and roundhouse kicked the orc, her heel connecting with the back of his head. The orc stumbled forward from the force of the blow. Due to this, it was relatively easy for Arinya to bring up her long knife and slice it across the back of the orc's exposed neck. Black blood spurted forth, coating Arinya's hand further with warm flecks of black liquid. A moment later, the orc fell completely to the ground, dead.

Arinya spared one look at the dead orc's body before her gaze rose, searching for her next opponent. As her head turned to look at her surroundings, she suddenly found herself face to face with another dwarf. His unexpected closeness and appearance caught her off guard as she found herself freezing. She realized that the dwarf was actually in the process of spinning around. After a moment, Arinya realized why.

After just looking at him for the brief moment, Arinya suddenly saw bright red blood spurt from a deep slash in his throat. The dwarf's eyes were wide in shock, filled with pain. His lips were parted, as if he wanted to cry out but couldn't. He looked frightened.

The elf felt a fear grip her as she saw the look in his eyes, saw the blood spraying from the gash in his throat. As the dwarf turned, flecks of warm life blood gushed onto Arinya's face and clothes. Her own eyes went wide in horror, every muscle in her body tensing. She could feel her hands trembling. Her green eyes briefly met those of the dwarf, locking onto each other. And then she saw the light leave his eyes. She saw the life leave him-like someone had blown out a candle.

Then, their gaze broke and the dwarf fell to the ground and Arinya's feet. She couldn't seem to take her eyes off of his body. Blood seeped from the gaping slash in his neck, creating a dark pool that spread ever farther across the stone floor of the tunnel. Arinya could hear her heart beat rapidly in her chest as fear threatened to take ahold of her. She could see her hands shaking at her sides. She had just seen him die. He had died right in front of her.

The sound of cackling laughter interrupted the elf's thoughts. Her head snapped up and she saw the source. It was the orc who had just dispatched the dwarf lying at her feet, its lips curled back into a fiendish grin. Its black eyes found her own, their malevolent depths filled with glee at the fact that he had just taken a life. In his clawed hand he held a sword, dripping red with the fallen dwarf's blood.

Instantly, Arinya felt an overwhelming angry grip her, banishing all the fear she had felt a minute ago. Her grip tightening on her long knife, the brunette ran her fingers down to the tip of the blade where she gripped its sides. Winding her arm back, the elf through the knife at her foe with all her might. The blade flipped end over end until it buried itself up to the hilt in the orc's chest. The foul creature stumbled back from the force of the blow. He looked down, as if he was shocked to see the weapon in his chest. Arinya felt a deep satisfaction at the sight, glad that the smile had been wiped from his face and the laughter had ceased.

Slowly, the orc sank to one knee, his own weapon clattering to the stone. His clawed hand wrapped around the hilt of her long knife, as if he thought to pull it from his body. But he never got the chance. After a few seconds of delivering the blow, the orc fell over completely, the light leaving his eyes as he died.

Arinya found herself breathing hard, her arm still held in the position from where she had released the blade. She let it fall back slowly to her side. Her eyes drifted over to the other dwarves in her unit. The battle appeared to be winding down now, nearly all of the orcs having been dispatched of. Arinya turned her attention back to the orc's body in front of her. She needed to retrieve her knife.

Carefully, the brunette stepped over the fallen dwarf at her feet. She tried to not look at him as she did so while also trying to make sure that she did not slip on the pool of blood beneath his body. After she had safely passed over him, she began to stride over to the fallen orc. When she reached him, she knelt down and wrapped her hand tightly around the hilt of her long knife. Taking a steadying breath, Arinya swiftly pulled the blade from his chest. The elf felt as if she would be sick as she felt the metal glide against the orc's flesh as she pulled it from his body. As soon as it was free, black blood began to flow from the open wound. Arinya tried not to look, fearing the sight of such a thing would only make her feel worse.

She briefly glanced down at the two hand-and-a-half blades gripped in her hands, their once shiny surfaces now stained with black blood. Reaching over, Arinya quickly wiped her blades clean on the scraps of cloth that the orc used for clothing. When they were sufficiently clean, Arinya rose to her full height. She cast one more glance over at the other dwarves in her unit. She had just survived her first real battle. She wasn't entirely sure of how she should feel. Triumphant? Sad? Angry? Right now, Arinya just felt sick at the sight of all the blood and carnage-some of it caused by her. But she would have to get used to it. There were going to be many more battles to come.

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A/N: Sorry for the long wait! Life was incredibly busy and I found this chapter strangely hard to write. Please let me know what you think in a review or PM. Also, please let me know if you think this story is getting a little violent so I know if I need to change the rating.

Thanks and welcome to all the new followers and favorites!


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